The Rising
by LadyDeb1970
Summary: A few months after the end of Miracle Day, Jack and Rex discover that Esther is alive and a prisoner of the Families.  They receive unexpected assistance in rescuing her from a former Torchwood operative.  But that's only the beginning.
1. Voices Thought Silenced

Disclaimer: Captain Jack Harkness, Rex Matheson, Esther Drummond and her family, and the concept of _Torchwood _don't belong to me. Carlyon, Priscilla, Octavia and Natalie Tregarth, as well as the rest of their family, do. I don't mind if you borrow any of them (it's been known to happen, don't laugh), just please ask first, and return them to me alive, in one piece and as close to unscathed as humanly possible.

Author's Note: This series (_Birthright_) is post _Miracle Day_, with a few twists on the finale. Yeah, I know MD stories aren't real popular, and I found it _very_ disappointing, but it wasn't a complete waste. This series might have Jack/Esther, because they were so damn adorable and Esther was my favorite out of the new characters. There will be references to Jack/Ianto, Jack/Alonso, and Jack/Angelo (and what is it with all of these names ending in 'o,' anyhow?) And finally, yes, this does take place in the States; however, while the Families will be causing trouble, they won't be the only ones. Rex is still making up his mind about Torchwood. . .however, he is NOT immortal. And I'm still making up my mind about what to do about Gwen.

Warnings: Some violence and language, mainly on the part of Rex whose potty-mouth is almost as bad as Owen's. Sexual situations may crop up, but that's far in the future. There are original characters; oh yes, and the Families are back, making trouble.

The Rising

Chapter One

Voices Thought Silenced

Minutes after the end of the Blessing

Buenos Aires, Argentina

It was over. They ended the Miracle. The world would start creeping back to normal, and that made the price worth it.

For her own part, she would die with the cool breeze on her face. It wasn't such a bad way to go, she thought with a faint smile. . .dying with the sun and the wind, and after saving the world. No, not a bad way to die, at all. If only she thought to say good-bye to Jack. Did he know how much she cared for him, how glad she was to have known him? And far more troubling, would he blame himself for her death? She heard the bone-deep weariness in his voice when he told Rex that he didn't know what to do. . .but she also knew that he was lying. He knew exactly what needed to be done, but for his own reasons, whatever they might be, he couldn't tell Rex.

She thought back to the first time he allowed her to take care of him, while Rex and Gwen were poring over the information Gwen retrieved from Jillian Kitzinger's office. Jack wasn't feeling well. . .said it was the aftereffects of his hangover, but Esther hadn't believed him. She was right. . .the young analyst found him in his room, face somewhat pale and pinched with pain. That was before she saw the bruises covering his torso. He admitted (after a great deal of hemming and hawing) that he'd been beaten up, but nothing more was said, though Esther had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with the way he reacted to Oswald Danes. She said nothing. . .had too many years of taking care of her sister to do anything else, and instead helped him into the bathroom where she tended to his bruises and he admitted that he'd been an idiot. Maybe that was where their friendship truly began, in that filthy bathroom.

That friendship deepened as they traveled across country from Washington DC to California, even after her stupidity nearly got him and Gwen. . .well, not killed, but endangered both of their lives. Yet, he comforted her and reassured her, never saying that she was right to do what she did, but encouraging her to learn from her mistakes. And then, he was shot. Even now, two months later, two months of taking care of him and changing his bandages and comforting him through the fever that ravaged him, even now, Esther regretted how she reacted. She never truly forgave herself for simply standing there with her hands in the air, crying out his name. She should have caught him, should have eased him to the ground, should have done so many things that her stunned brain simply never. . .

_Would have, could have, should have_. Would Sarah be all right? What about Alys and Melanie? Did they end the Miracle in time to save her beautiful nieces? After she raced away from the Colasanto compound, Jack bleeding and barely conscious in the back seat, she had no way of keeping track of Sarah and the girls, although there was apparently quite a long line of people for Category Zero. That gave her hope. No matter what happened to her, as long as her sister and nieces were all right, she was happy. The world began to gray for Esther Drummond, and as it did, a single image flashed through her mind: a handsome, dark-haired man with a young face and ancient eyes, smiling at her as he said, "Captain Jack Harkness. . .pleasure to meet you."

And then there was nothing.

TWTWTWTWTW

A small town just south of Roswell, New Mexico

Three months later

One a scale of one to ten, this qualified as a fifteen in terms of '_not too bright things I've done_.' Still, there was a woman who was being imprisoned by the lowlifes who nearly destroyed civilization and if there was one thing that Natalie Tregarth despised, it was bullies who insisted on ruining things for everyone else. She hated them when she was a child being punished in elementary school for the sins of others, and she hated them even more as an adult.

Honestly, she still wasn't sure how her grandfather managed to infiltrate the Families. Just from what she learned during his briefing with her and her mother, they were incredibly, insanely paranoid, not trusting anyone except each other and even that was iffy. Then again, she was more of a peasant, to their way of thinking. That made it easier to slip under the radar. . . but in a way, that made it more critical that she maintain her low profile. At least until it was time for her to blow this hot dog stand.

In the months since the world returned to normal, the entire Tregarth family began work to take down the Families. Natalie's grandfather wouldn't specify why he was so determined to see them destroyed or how he knew that they even existed. . .only that they benefitted from hurting a dear friend of his, and he wasn't inclined to forget or forgive. Really, that was the only explanation that Natalie could have bought. . .with such a vengeful attitude, the Families had to have done something really nasty to her grandfather's friend. Even more telling, her mother (who decried meeting violence with violence) actually encouraged his desire for vengeance. Nat kinda hoped she'd have the chance to meet this person, if her mother didn't have a problem with violence this time.

For now, however, her focus had to be on the woman she came here to help. Her mother and grandfather were making arrangements to spring them both. And that would be soon. She hoped. But she pasted a smile on her face as she entered the room where the poor girl lay unconscious for so long. She nearly died. . .she should have died, but the Families still had a use for her. Damn them. It wasn't that Natalie wanted her to die, but the Families had a habit of interfering where they shouldn't. And that was something of an understatement.

"G'morning, Tal," the girl in the bed mumbled as Natalie drew closer. The 'drudge' cringed, just a little. 'Tal.' Ew. She hated it when people called her that. But, it was hardly her patient's fault. . .that was the name on her tag. Grandfather didn't want to run the risk that someone would figure out that the drudge who cleaned the floors was in fact Natalie Tregarth, which made her wonder just what the hell her grandfather did in his previous life, before he moved to the States before Natalie was born.

"Good morning, Esther. . .did you sleep well?" Natalie inquired. The girl hummed sleepily, and not for the first time, Nat wondered just why Esther Drummond was so damn important. It didn't matter, because she was important, but the question remained in her mind. She was a pretty girl, even with her matted hair and a moony expression on her face. . .and given that she was about ten years younger than Nat, who would be thirty-five in October, yes, she was a girl. And there were times, like this morning, when the would-be rescuer felt every minute of those ten years.

"Had dreams. Strange dreams," Esther murmured dreamily, and Nat shuddered a little. She couldn't prove it, but she was beginning to suspect that the Families were messing with the girl's memories. There was someone she called to occasionally. . .someone named 'Jack.' Sometimes, there was tenderness and affection in her voice when she spoke to/spoke of him. Other times, especially when she first woke up, there was rage, and Nat feared that the Families were trying to turn Esther against this man. All the more reason to get her out of this hellhole. Sooner, rather than later.

"You'll have to tell me about those dreams one of these days, sweetheart," Nat said lightly, trying to keep her anxiety out of her voice. God, her life had been one insane mess after another, ever since the Earth was removed from its orbit and the children began speaking in unison. Her own daughter was too young to be affected, at least by the speaking in unison part (thank God), but the Tregarth family prevented any children from being rounded up for that so-called vaccination. Then there were the missing hours or days, it was hard to be sure. . .

Regardless, during the last few years, Natalie's life was one crisis after another. Ever since she was a child, Natalie's mother and grandfather told her that she had to be ready, but never explained what she needed to be ready for. Although, given the way things went over the last two and a half years, she supposed it didn't really matter. She and her aunt Octavia, who was only fifteen years older than she was, found themselves in leadership positions during most of those crises she mentally named, because they were prepared for things to go to shit. Still, Nat had a feeling that wasn't what her grandfather meant by being ready. And that? That scared the living hell out of her.

"Tal. . .aren't you here a little early?" Esther asked, sounding more awake than she did a few minutes earlier and her voice stronger than it was since Nat first started cleaning her room. Two very promising signs. Natalie looked at the younger woman, and then withdrew the fob watch around her neck. A quick glance at the timepiece assured her that yes, she was here somewhat earlier than usual. She looked around, wondering what clued Esther into that, aside from the welcome sign of the drugs wearing off. Esther added, sounding almost apologetic, "The light isn't as strong as it usually is."

"You are a clever girl! I am here a little early. . .couldn't sleep," Nat lied, not even giving it a second thought. Well, not a first thought, much less a second thought. She was undercover, playing a role, so she was already lying. On the other hand, it was hardly Esther's fault, and she did feel badly about lying to the blonde girl. Natalie reasoned that there was a good chance the Families listened in on their conversations, so she was really lying to them, rather than Esther. Whatever helped her to deal with this mess. She supposed she could have been angry with her grandfather, but she chose to be angry with the Families. They created the mess.

"I don't know about that, Tal. I don't remember what happened to me. The last thing I remember. . .there's a man. He's about your age, maybe a little older. . .dark hair and blue eyes, really hot. . .and he has this smile that. . .wow," Esther replied. Natalie felt her hands shake, just for a minute. There was something about that description that sounded so familiar. Maybe someone she heard Grandfather and Mom talking about? Either way, it sounded like more of Esther's memories were coming back. It was almost time to go, then, and it couldn't come soon enough for Natalie. She couldn't wait to get Esther out of here and go home to Oklahoma, hold her daughter again.

She was saved from answering by the arrival of one of the Family doctors. Natalie lowered her head, and silently prayed that Esther didn't share her thoughts with the doctor. If that happened. . .but it didn't. Esther answered the questions posed to her, not sharing anything that she shared with Natalie. _Good girl_, she thought, _keep that up and we'll both get out of this alive and intact_. She quietly slipped from the room and wheeled her bucket back to the restroom. And then, she had a text to send to her family. It consisted of two words. '_Game on_.'

TWTWTWTW

An abandoned farmhouse a few miles away

Game on. Or so the text ran. The old man sitting in front of the computer smiled coldly, reading the text repeatedly. Well, well. Things were moving at a much faster clip than he anticipated, but that was all right. His former colleagues in Torchwood always used to say that he was excellent at modifying plans. It was one of the things that made him so good at his job, and so feared by those who hated him. You could attack him, yes. . .but he would find a way to overcome the obstacle and then he would make you pay. Dearly. There was just one time when his ability to modify failed him. . .and those he loved most suffered for it. Not again. Never again.

When the Families abducted young Esther Drummond and tricked her friends into believing she was dead, they inadvertently gave him a way of making amends for his grievous mistakes. No doubt they would regret that, but that was their problem. For now, Carlyon Tregarth called over his shoulder, "Priscilla, I just received word from Natalie. Young Miss Drummond is awake enough to realize something is terribly wrong. Inform Octavia that it's time."

"You bet I will!" his oldest daughter retorted and Carlyon smiled faintly. He and Sophia did well with their daughters. Priscilla was a resourceful, determined teacher who raised two bright, strong-willed women. He didn't like thinking about the fact that Priscilla was almost sixty. . .hated what that said about him. And Octavia, now approaching fifty, was a former cop who raised her own boys to be guardians in a different way. She probably would still be a cop, if it weren't for the mission that nearly ended her life eighteen years earlier. Carlyon had never forgiven himself for that. He wouldn't blame Octavia if she still couldn't forgive him. Fortunately, his girls were better people than he was.

His next call was to Octavia's oldest son, twenty-five year old Jason. Where he and Sophia gave their children Latin-based names, Octavia and her late husband chose names with Greek roots. Carlyon said a silent prayer for the peaceful rest of his son-in-law David, a police officer who perished in the terrible attacks of September 11. Jason and his younger brother, twenty-two year old Lucas, quietly honored their father. . .Jason by joining the military and Lucas by becoming an EMT. He was sure that his late son-in-law was proud of those boys. . .Carlyon certainly was. Once Jason was on the line, he said only, "The pawn will be freed."

Jason hissed, but responded, "I'll send the message. It's a good thing Angelo Colasanto was comatose during the Miracle. I don't think he'd be very pleased with his granddaughter." Carlyon smiled without any humor. No, he was quite sure that his occasional nemesis and just as occasional ally wouldn't have pleased with the way his granddaughter arranged the necessary meeting with Carlyon and Angelo's mutual friend. Stupid bitch. Didn't she know that curiosity would have done the trick? Not that she was the only guilty party in that situation. Stupid, stupid bitches, both of them.

"Indeed, my dear boy. If all works as it's meant to work, that young woman will be safely back with those who care for her sooner than she thinks, and Natalie will be home, safe and sound," Carlyon told his oldest grandson. He just hoped that the poor girl remembered whom her friends were. Natalie shared her fear that the girl was being brainwashed, and Carlyon had to admit, it was entirely likely. He doubted if that was originally in the plans, but they took an opportunity where they found it. If they didn't have a habit of hurting the people who mattered to Carlyon, he'd admire them for that. He continued after a moment, "Once the message is sent, I need you boys to be ready with both vans. . .after the girls are free, we have to ride hell-bent for leather."

"Understood, Grandfather," the boy replied, very carefully avoiding the final phrase that Carlyon used and the oddity of a proper Englishman using such a blatantly American West term. Good boy. David and Octavia raised him properly. There was a slight hesitation, and then Jason asked quietly, "Grandfather, I know that this entire organization needs to go down, and that this is just the first blow against them, but why is Esther Drummond so important that Natalie is risking her life to save her?" Unspoken was Jason's true question. . .why was this girl's life more important than Natalie's. Carlyon wasn't entirely sure how to answer, especially since Natalie's life was more important to Carlyon than his own.

At last, he said, "Because she's one of us, Jason. She's a guardian, a protector, even though her way is different from yours. It was she who took care of her older sister and young nieces, when it was her sister's responsibility to take care of her. And Natalie is risking her life because the Families want to use Esther as a weapon against another ally of ours." There was another long silence while Jason processed his answer. Carlyon knew his grandson knew this already, and had his own reasons for asking.

Finally, Jason replied, "I see. The message has been sent. I just hope he fulfills your faith in him, Grandfather." Carlyon smiled in spite of himself. He knew he couldn't expect Jason or Lucas or Adriane to understand. He couldn't even expect Natalie to understand. He, Sophia, Priscilla and Octavia were the only ones who knew the man, who wasn't Superman but who was quite extraordinary in his own right.

However, all he said was, "Your aunt is alive because of him, Jason. He is the only reason she's alive." Because he made the sacrifices that Carlyon refused to make, body and soul. There was another long silence from Jason as his grandson worked out things in his mind, and Carlyon smiled. The boy knew he didn't mean Priscilla, but the hidden child, the child whom Sophia was carrying when she was infected with the alien influenza in 1965, the child whom he could not claim for her own safety.

Jason answered, "Understood. I've received a message back from him. . .he wants to know why he should trust us. I told him that there was a Families operative among the soldiers who rescued Miss Drummond and Agent Matheson in Buenos Aires, who was able to trick Agent Matheson into believing that Miss Drummond was dead, using a particularly strong sedative. I also reminded him that Agent Matheson was himself injured quite badly. He repeated his question of trusting us. He's a very suspicious man, Grandfather. . .and he was one of your operatives?"

"In a manner of speaking, Jason, he was. Tell him, the boy whom he rescued from the 1927 Tsinghai earthquake seeks to repay his debts. He'll understand that better than anything else," Carlyon replied. Yes, he could have made reference to the events of 1965, but considering what the man lost due to Carlyon's cowardice, that wouldn't be a wise idea. He didn't address the 'suspicious' charge that Jason leveled. The man's trust was betrayed more than once. . .Carlyon would have been worried if he simply believed what they told him.

There was a brief silence while his grandson sent the message, and then Jason breathed, "Message received. He wants the coordinates of the hospital. I don't think he believes us, Grandfather." Again, Carlyon would be worried if his old friend simply accepted what he was told, especially when it came to the Families. Or Carlyon himself. So many betrayals, too many betrayals, too much asked from the man and not enough given to him. This was a good start, but it was only a start. It was Carlyon's hope that they would continue to make things right with him. . .that they would be given that chance.

"He has excellent reasons to have trust issues, Jason, believe me on that. Give him what he asks for and send him a photo of Natalie, let him know that she's already inside the hospital and keeping an eye on Esther. No. No, don't word it like that. Tell him that she's caring for Esther," Carlyon responded. The wording was very important, because of the implications. If he said that Nat was keeping an eye on Esther, it could be misinterpreted. Carlyon always chose his words very carefully, something his old friend knew well. It was always Carlyon's most potent weapon.

This time, Jason laughed at the response and said, "His response is funny. '_Okay, now I believe you. She looks like Carlyon, only prettier_.' When we get Nat out of there, we should tell her that. . .she's not inclined to think she is pretty." Carlyon bit back a smile at the rejoinder and sighed quietly at Jason's observation. Yes, that was something Carlyon knew entirely too well. The girl tended to compare herself unfavorably to Priscilla, Octavia and Sophia. Jason continued, "Apparently, he's still in the States, didn't return to Cardiff. Wonder what he's been up to."

"Truly, Jason, the best idea is not to ask. He's always been slightly unpredictable. Does he give an anticipated time of arrival?" Carlyon asked, carefully not mentioning just how unpredictable their ally could be. Instead, he focused on the mission. The sooner Natalie was out of that place, the happier he would be. He didn't want any member of his family anywhere near the Families, but in this case, it couldn't be helped. There were certain people who knew Priscilla and Octavia. . .if not by name, then by face, and they knew that they were his daughters. As for Adriane, she was too young, too rebellious, too fiery to pull this off. And he needed Jason and Lucas on the outside, Jason for his military experience and Lucas for his medic training. Much as he hated to put Natalie in danger, she had the best chance of getting herself and that girl out of the hospital safely.

"He's saying that he'll meet us at zero five hundred local time," Jason reported. Whether those words were used or not was up for debate. There was a brief silence, before Jason laughed again, adding, "He also says that he expects you to provide some of the weaponry you took when you left Cardiff, Grandfather. Do I even want to know the story behind that comment?" _No, dear boy_, Carlyon thought, _you most assuredly do not_. He took a great deal with him when he left Cardiff nearly forty years earlier: his two daughters, his wife's body, and modified weaponry. He didn't bother asking how his friend knew about those weapons. He had a way of learning these things.

However, he said only, "Reassure him that we'll have everything we need, and then some." He thought briefly about instructing his grandson to inform his old friend that he had a business proposition, but decided against it. No, he wanted to be face to face when that happened. After what he did to Jack Harkness forty-five years earlier, the absolute least he owed the man was a chance to deck him or spit in his face if he so chose when Carlyon made that offer. Too much rode on this rescue. . .far more than the lives of two young women.

TWTWTWTWTW

Denver, Colorado

Carlyon Tregarth. Well, there was a name from the past.

Captain Jack Harkness sat back after the final missive came through from a person who claimed to represent Carlyon Tregarth. First Angelo, now Carlyon. Except this time, his past was seeking to help him. Esther was alive; she was alive and being held by the Families. He couldn't claim to be surprised that they were still around and still causing trouble, but they had Esther. It was his own fault, he knew. As soon as they knew she was important to him, she became a target. He hoped she could forgive him for that.

"You okay there, World War Two?" Rex Matheson asked, taking the seat beside his own. After the Miracle ended and Esther's memorial service was held, Jack stayed in the US just long enough to be reassured that the CIA agent was not immortal. He returned to Britain to check on his daughter (carefully staying out of sight), while he met with the head of Torchwood Two in Scotland to decide what came next. The Rift was closed, at least in Cardiff, and Jack was concerned it would be opened again. He hoped not. If the Rift opened elsewhere, it made Ianto's final sacrifice null and void. But about two weeks earlier, Rex came across something that troubled him, and he did the unthinkable: he asked Jack for help. This time, Jack stayed well away from New York, California and DC. That was fine with Rex, who was conducting his investigation in Colorado.

"What if I told you that Esther was still alive?" Jack asked, folding his arms over his chest and staring at the other man. Rex blinked in astonishment and Jack explained, "I received word from an old friend of mine. He confirmed his identity by mentioning how we met back in 1927, just before I came to the States and met Angelo Colasanto. According to Carlyon, the Families had an operative in the unit that rescued you and Esther after the Blessing was ended."

Rex swore quietly, confirming Jack's suspicion that Rex had the same niggling doubt he experienced. But Esther's sister Sarah insisted upon a closed casket. They could smile at the beautiful picture, and remember her that way, Sarah decided, and not the cold husk of the body that they were burying. Rex asked, "How much do you wanna bet we coulda rescued Esther right then and there? Goddamn son of a bitch, I should have known! Too many things didn't add up!"

"We know now, and if we'd tried to do anything at the time, more than just Charlotte Wills would have died. And I don't think Esther would have forgiven us if our attempt to rescue her would have resulted in her nieces being killed," Jack reminded him sharply. Rex closed his eyes and nodded. Jack repeated, "We know now. I have coordinates in New Mexico. If we leave now, we can be at the rendezvous point by five am tomorrow morning. Carlyon's got a person on the inside, a family member of his own, and he wants her out as well."

"So the question is, Jack. . .do you trust him?" Rex questioned. Jack sighed and slumped back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. Trust. That was a really funny word when it came to his past. Rex added, "Okay, maybe that was the wrong way of putting it. Let me ask you this. . .what was he to you? Former lover, old friend, something else?" That was slightly better, but still covered a lot of ground. At various times in Carlyon's life, he was many things to Jack. It was one reason he hated labels so much, one of many.

"I first met him when he was hardly more than a baby. . .he was five years old, one of the victims of the 1927 Tsinghai earthquake. I was meeting with his parents, who found a rather frightening alien artifact, and they didn't trust Torchwood London with it. They were turning it over to Torchwood Cardiff instead," Jack explained. Rex nodded his understanding and Jack continued, "They left the room to retrieve the object, leaving their small son with me. That's when the earthquake hit. I grabbed Carlyon and we were trapped together for about thirty hours."

Rex, demonstrating that flash of insight which occasionally annoyed Jack, asked, "How many times did you die during those thirty hours, and did he realize what was happening?" Jack shook his head. No, he made sure that the little boy had no clue that Jack was dying and reviving. He convinced the youngster that every time he gasped for breath, he was regaining consciousness. It wasn't until years later, after Jack died in Carlyon's arms during World War II that the young man realized the truth of what happened in that small space. Rex shook his head, murmuring, "Damn, World War II, every time I think I have you figured out, you go and shock me. So. What are we gonna do about Esther?"

"Well, I know that Carlyon is behind the contact, and that one of his female relatives is in the hospital, caring for Esther. Do we trust him? For all we know, this girl Natalie could also be a hostage and Carlyon might want to trade me for her. If that happens, and we both know it's entirely possible, I need you to remain in reserve. I can't stay dead, Rex, but that doesn't mean I like dying, and I might need you to come in after us," Jack outlined. Rex's dark eyes narrowed and Jack braced himself for the argument he knew would result. And it did. Just not the one he was expecting.

"Not happening, Harkness. . .I'm goin' in with you. Esther is in this situation because of me, and I'm not letting you do this alone!" Rex answered fiercely. Jack started to protest, started to remind Rex of how close the former CIA agent himself came to dying, but Rex cut him off with a swift hand motion, repeating, "You're not going in by yourself, and you can leave me behind, but I will not stay put. Esther was my responsibility while we were in Buenos Aires, since I'm the senior agent, and I let her get shot."

"That's more my fault, Rex. I let them know when I threatened them that she was important to me, and that's why she was targeted. One reason why my daughter never wanted me around, even before the 456 returned to Earth. . .she, and her mother, thought I was dangerous to be around, and they were right," Jack replied. Rex snorted and shook his head. There were times when Matheson reminded him of Owen Harper, with his prickly demeanor and his exasperation with Jack's innuendos. . .and there were times when Jack couldn't put his finger on whom Rex was like.

This was one of the latter times as the former agent snorted, "That is _such_ a cop-out, Harkness. Life's dangerous, Jack. Esther chose to come with me, but that bastard chose to shoot her. If we wanna blame someone, we blame him, not ourselves. But I'm still not letting you go by yourself. You get yourself killed, you'll need someone to save your sorry ass. Again." This was said with a smirk and Jack rolled his eyes. Rex continued more seriously, "So, let's get packed and on the road, and no, you're not driving. You scared the hell out of me the last time I let you drive."

"Knock yourself out. On second thought, don't, that would mean I'd be carrying your ass all over the country, and I have better things to do with. . .my time," Jack concluded, seeing Rex's eyes narrow in a threatening manner at the implied innuendo. Honestly, he was entirely too easy to wind up sometimes! The other man still growled at him, but Jack simply smirked at him, continuing, "You pack first, I'll get a few other routes, just in case. And the Families are getting sloppy. The closest city to their little set-up? None other than Roswell, New Mexico." Now Rex's brows merged with his hairline.

"Seriously? Roswell? How clichéd is that?" he asked incredulously and Jack simply laughed. Rex shook his head, muttering, "Roswell, New Mexico and Area 51. Damn, World War II, you attract the strangest enemies. What time did you tell this guy we'd meet with him? It's six thirty right now, and I'm guessing you wanna be on the road within the next half hour or so."

"Five am tomorrow morning. I want to leave as soon as possible. Get us there, give us the opportunity to do some recon of our own. Tomorrow morning, we go in hard, we go in fast, and we don't let them hurt either of those girls. I'm getting really sick of people using family members as pawns, as leverage," Jack said and Rex nodded his agreement, rising to his feet. He turned to leave the room, and Jack added, "Oh, and when we get there, we'll have access to more toys. When Carlyon left Torchwood Cardiff years ago, he confiscated some weapons that he didn't trust the new director with. So if you hear any explosions, don't worry too much."

Rex shook his head again, muttering under his breath about Jack's insanity. The immortal leaned back, devoting his attention to finding new routes to the coordinates given to him. He made sure his attention was on that, rather than on his worries for Esther. And he was worried for her. He was worried about what the Families had done to her since the end of the Miracle, and he was worried about the Tregarth factor in this entire mess. Things could play out two ways, and that worried him most of all.

TWTWTWTWTW

Jason Martinelli sat back, scrubbing his hand over his face. Not for the first time, he wished that his mother's family wasn't so damn strange. And when he said his mother's family, he primarily meant his grandfather. Yeah, he loved the old man, but Carlyon Tregarth defined 'eccentric.' All right, yeah, Aunt Priscilla was a little bit on the strange side, too, but it was cool, the way she did it. But his grandfather? He was a whole 'nother kind of strange.

Take this newest mission. Sure, he got that his grandfather wronged this guy, Jack Harkness, years earlier. He even got that his grandfather, mother, and aunt wanted to help him, to make amends. And he certainly understood that this guy saved his grandfather. Never mind that the dude had to be at least a hundred years old, because between the Earth being taken out of its orbit, the kids speaking in unison, and then the so-called Miracle Day, Jason's perception of reality took one helluva beating. But what Jason didn't get was why Natalie was undercover at the hospital, when she was never trained and she wasn't very good at lying. Who was this Esther Drummond chick and why was Natalie risking her life for her?

Really, it made no sense. Okay, if Esther Drummond was important to Harkness, he could understand why they were getting her out of that hospital. But it still didn't explain why someone who was untrained and whose personality totally unsuited to undercover was doing the job. His mom explained that Natalie was the best choice if they wanted to avoid scrutiny. Again, why Natalie? He or Lucas should have been sent in her place. He was a soldier and Lucas was a medic.

Their mom simply smiled and answered that Natalie was far better at deception than they realized. She added more seriously that Nat checked in with her or Aunt Priscilla every night, and that none of her safe words were used. Jason still didn't like it. He didn't like anything dealing with the Families, he didn't like that a member of his own family was risking her life for a stranger. He didn't even like it when a member of his family risked their lives for someone he knew. That wasn't their job. But apparently, this was Natalie's choice. . .and that trumped everything else.

So, the message was sent and the distractions were planned. If Harkness was worth anything, he'd be there early to scout the perimeter himself. Again, that was assuming that his grandfather was right about this dude, and Jason had his doubts about that. No one was like that, no one could be, not even this man whom his grandfather described in such glowing terms. Jason heard it said that time poured honey on the memory, and that was probably what happened. Aunt Priscilla and Mom were both little kids the last time they saw him, and from what his grandfather, Harkness saved Grandmother Sophia's life. So it was naturally they put him on a pedestal like some big hero. But real life didn't work that way.

Jason wanted to blame Harkness for the fall he could see coming for his grandfather, aunt, and mother, but when all was said and done, it wasn't the man's fault. They chose to put him on that pedestal, chose to exalt him as someone who was superhuman. Jason had no doubt that the man was good. . .even very good. But he was still just a human being. And much as it would hurt his family, it would be their own fault when Harkness couldn't be what they needed or wanted him to be. Jason would prepare himself, though, to pick up the pieces. He just hoped that Natalie (or the girl whom she was protecting) didn't pay the price for their unrealistic expectations.

He told Lucas that they would leave around zero one hundred hours, while their mother, aunt, and grandfather were all asleep. He had no idea what Adriane would be doing at that time of the night, or if she even had a part in the upcoming rescue. Half the time, he wasn't sure if she knew. Lucas would drive, while Jason planted the charges in strategic locations around the perimeter. There would be lots of smoke and flash, but very little in the way of destruction. . .at least, not until the girls were safely away. Then Jason would really party. Of course, after that happened, the Families would come after them full throttle. Let them. The Tregarth family was ready.

_Of course_, Jason thought with a small smirk, _they'll have to find us first_. And the last place the Families would think to look for them was Oklahoma. More than likely, that was why his grandfather chose the southwestern state when he stopped wandering about the United States and Canada so many years earlier. Oh, the Families would eventually find the Tregarths, Jason knew that. But his own family would use the time they had, re-building his grandfather's organization, decimated over the last five years by disasters, both natural and otherwise.

He might not have been so blasé about his family's ability to remain hidden, had he known that when the rift in Cardiff closed, it was inevitable that it would reopen elsewhere. . .somewhere much closer to the Tregarth homestead.

TWTWTWTWTWTW

Her name was Esther Drummond. She was twenty-six years old. Both of her parents were dead. She had one older sister Sarah and two nieces, Alys and Melanie, who were the great loves of her life. When this nightmare first began, nearly five months earlier, she had something of a crush on her immediate boss, Rex Matheson. And she was terrified that she was losing her mind.

When she was awake, it was easy to remember the truth about her life. She was in the CIA until the Miracle, when the Families' manipulation drove her into the arms of Torchwood (almost literally). She met an amazing, beautiful, extraordinary man who, even though he was the only person who could die, still worked to protect others. For two months after he was shot, she took care of him, helped him heal and if she fell more than a little bit in love with him, no one could really blame her.

It was when she fell asleep that she became vulnerable to the manipulations of the Families. She realized not long after she woke up in this hospital that she was in the custody of the Families, and she could make a pretty good guess why. They intended to use her against Jack. She wouldn't fall into their trap, not a second time. She should have listened to Jack at the Colasanto compound when she noticed the discrepancy in the floor, but she didn't. She didn't, she told Director Shapiro about what she noticed, and Jack ended up paying the price for that betrayal with a bullet to his gut. She wouldn't do that to him, not again. But oh, they were making it so hard to keep to her word!

Each time she woke up, she heard whispers that Jack knew she was here and left her to die, that he never truly cared for her. Esther knew better. She heard the pain in his voice, heard the terror in Rex's voice as she fought for her life in Buenos Aires. They cared for her. And that was why Natalie's visits meant so much to her. Oh, her name tag said '_Tal_,' but it had to be short for '_Natalie_' or '_Natalia_,' and Esther believed that if it was '_Natalia_,' her nickname would be '_Talia_,' rather than '_Tal_.' Silly thing to focus on, but it helped her to stay Esther. Tal or Natalie or whatever her name was. . .she was Esther's touchstone with her sanity, even if Esther couldn't be completely honest with her yet.

That morning when Tal was early, Esther noticed something else. Over and above how early Tal was, for the first time, Esther noticed the watch that hung around Tal's neck. And she remembered. . .remembered stories Jack told her while she was caring for him, changing his bandages, soothing his fever and his nightmares. There were stories about his Ianto, dead now for nearly two years, and about Ianto's stopwatch. About the fob watch which contained the essence of a Time Lord who nearly wiped out humanity and the Earth itself. And the final thing she noticed? Tal's expression when Esther noted the change in the time. As if it was something she was waiting for.

Thus, she was more conscious than normal of the answers she gave to the doctor provided by the Families. She was conscious that she was Esther Drummond and she would not let these mundane monsters win. She was conscious also of Tal's quiet approval, which could mean only one thing. If she wasn't here to get Esther out, she knew someone who was. And that was fine with Esther. She began thinking of ways she could make the Families' life harder, as they tried to turn her against those who mattered to her. And once she was free again, she would seek out Jack and rejoin the fight.

Her name was Esther Drummond. She was twenty-six years old. Both of her parents were dead. She had one older sister Sarah and two nieces, Alys and Melanie, who were the great loves of her life. When this nightmare first began, nearly five months earlier, she had something of a crush on her immediate boss, Rex Matheson. But those were dreams of a girl, and Esther was a woman now. And she would not go down this time without a fight.

TBC


	2. Diversionary Tactics

Author's Note: Here is the second of three chapters. I will warn you right now, this is my weakest chapter, particularly the rescue. I was afraid if I tinkered with it any more, it would make it worse. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday, whichever one you celebrate. I'm hoping and praying that 2012 will be far better than 2011 was.

Chapter Two

Diversionary Tactics

Just outside the Families' hospital

New Mexico

2:30 am

Lucas Martinelli stood at his brother's side as two men approached them. It wasn't a bright night, thank God. . .their grandfather monitored the phases of the moon, but Lucas had a feeling the mission would have gone ahead, given Natalie's report that Esther Drummond was thinking more clearly. The longer she remained in the hands of the Families, the better chance the Families had of successfully brainwashing her. Their grandfather didn't explain why that was important, but he rarely made explanations beforehand. The necessary explanations came afterward. And nine times out of ten, their grandfather's reasoning was, at the very least, acceptable. Maybe they didn't like it, but they could accept it.

He wasn't so sure that would be the case this time. Like his older brother, Lucas had a hard time believing that this Captain Jack Harkness was nearly as special or extraordinary as his mother, aunt, and grandfather seemed to think. However, unlike Jason, Lucas didn't really care. Their grandfather felt responsible for this man, for some reason. Their mother knew why, but she refused to tell them, saying only that his actions saved their aunt. Whatever he did, it was big time, and if Aunt Priscilla felt strongly enough about him not to chastise Grandfather when he spoke of vengeance against the Families, that was all Lucas needed to know.

People often made the mistake of thinking that because he was the medic, he was the gentle one. He wasn't. Lucas was far more ruthless, and Jason was, at heart, the gentle brother. Or, as his grandfather put it on more than one occasion, Jason was their father's son, while Lucas was more their mother's son. David Martinelli was a big-hearted, soft-spoken man, and his widow could be as mean as an alley cat and as vicious as a piranha. That was her description, not his. And it was really funny, because for all her avowed pacifism, his aunt was even more ruthless than Lucas and Jason's mother.

He remembered one time. . .he was about fourteen or so. . .when Natalie was caught in the crossfire of two neighbors' feud that spun out of control. The Tregarths stayed out of it up until then, considering it none of their business, though it affected all of them in some way. Best as he could remember, Natalie was in her middle twenties, no longer a child, but she could have died. Once Aunt Priscilla could leave her side without fearing Natalie would die, she completely destroyed the neighbor who was actually responsible for Nat's injury. It went unsaid, but her actions were an object lesson to the community as a whole: _don't drag us into your mess_. Not surprisingly, the guilty party ended up leaving town by the end of the year.

Mom later told him and Jason that if something like that happened to either of them, she would have beaten the ever-living shit of the person who caused the injury. Jason made the quiet observation that they came from a family of extremes. That was definitely true of their mother, grandfather, and aunt. He, Jason, and Adriane were more temperate, and Natalie. . .Natalie just wanted to be left alone, allowed to raise her daughter in peace. However, she came to terms with that impossibility years earlier, and now met each task with a grim determination. That was why she was now inside the hospital which they would be infiltrating with the two men approaching.

Jason nodded to the two men, saying, "Agent Rex Matheson, formerly of the CIA, and Captain Jack Harkness, once the director of Torchwood Cardiff. I'm Jason Martinelli, the grandson of Carlyon and Sophia Tregarth. This is my younger brother, Lucas." Torchwood? Lucas looked at his brother. What the hell was Torchwood? And while they were on the subject, how was it possible that this was Harkness? He couldn't be more than forty or so! Out of the corner of his mouth, Jason whispered, "I'll tell you later." Yeah, he would! Jason continued, this time to the two men, "We figured you would be here early. I've already gotten the charges set. The first group will be our distraction to get inside. The second set of charges will go off once the girls are safely outside, to cause as much confusion as possible."

"I'll check those out, make sure we avoid them on the way out. You gonna be okay, World War II, or do I need to babysit you?" the CIA agent asked. Harkness simply smirked and Matheson backed off, muttering, "No, not opening myself for any more comments. Stay outta trouble while I'm gone, will you? And try to avoid kissing these boys." He moved away then, carefully circling the perimeter. The two Martinelli brothers were still reeling from the dark-skinned man's last comment. Kissing them? Lucas would like to see him try. Sure, he was attractive enough, but Lucas would still lay him out if he tried. However, the dark-haired man made no move forward. Instead, he was studying the hospital with cool eyes, an expression Lucas often saw on his grandfather's face when the patriarch was strategizing.

"Any idea how many guards?" the remaining man asked and Jason nodded, pulling the maps which he made over the last two months, ever since Natalie was hired to clean the floors. With the already-wobbly economy still recovering, the Families never questioned why a woman with a college degree was applying for menial work. Then again, they didn't really care about the peons. For the next few minutes, the brothers briefed Jack Harkness on everything they knew about the hospital. . .it, and the town, was abandoned within a week of the start of the Miracle. There really were no good places to be during the Miracle. No good place, no safe place.

According to the information which the Martinelli brothers and Natalie gathered between the three of them, there were guards at each entrance except one. The confirmed number of personnel was twenty-five. Lucas could almost literally see the wheels turning in as Harkness listened to their reports. His eyes kept returning to that one door, the delivery door. He murmured, "We can't use that door, it's a trap. That should have more guards than just about any place. No one should know that hospital exists any more, much less that it's being used." Lucas rocked back on his heels, just a little. Shit. He was right. He was absolutely right!

"And it's in a part of the hospital that Natalie wouldn't be able to see, so she wouldn't be able to tell us about those guards," Jason observed, nodding. Harkness nodded, his eyes narrowing, and Jason continued, "So we have to either lure the guards away with those explosives I planted or we go in really hard and really fast." That produced a cold, feral smile from this rather strange friend of their grandfather, and Lucas felt his heart rate speed up. Only a fool made the mistake of dismissing this man as a pretty boy.

"We go in hard and fast, which is my favorite way to go in," Harkness replied, eyes twinkling. Lucas blinked. He didn't mean what he thought he meant. . .did he? Before he could clarify things, the other man was saying, "Contact your Natalie, let her know that when the first blasts go off, get to Esther's room. You have a secure way of contacting her?" Jason nodded with a feral smile of his own. It wasn't nearly as dangerous as their new ally, but Lucas knew better than to tell his brother that. Jason would likely take it as a challenge. Harkness went on, "Good. Then there's one last piece of business. Your grandfather mentioned weaponry that would be sent along. Do you have that or will that be here later?"

"That will be here at zero five hundred. My grandfather wants us on the road as soon as we get the girls out of there, while the Families are still chasing their tails. While we're doing this, he's trying to figure out where next to strike at the Families. I don't know what they did, aside from the obvious, but he's pissed as hell," Lucas spoke up. Harkness offered a smile that never completely reached his eyes, but no explanation. _Damn_. Well, it was worth a shot. He continued, "I'll send the message to Nat. She hasn't been sleeping much since she's been undercover, which means our asses will be grass if we wake her up once we get her out of there." Which made a helluva lot more sense in his head, but Harkness seemed to understand.

"Where is Esther's room?" he asked and Jason indicated the most heavily guarded area of the hospital, which was strangely enough, relatively close to the main entrance. He nodded thoughtfully, and said, "Also feels like a trap, but we have no other choice on that one. All right, we hit them two ways. Rex and I will take one entrance, you two will take the other. They go down, and they don't get a chance to call in. You wait until after they've radioed before you take them out. Either of you have a problem with killing?" Both Jason and Lucas shook their heads. Lucas was a medic, but those guards were in the employ of the Families, and worse than that, they stood between him and someone he loved. He already promised that if any harm came to Natalie, he'd bust some heads. . .and then, he'd bust some balls as well.

TWTWTWTWTW

5:00 am

"There they are! I swear to God, Pris, one of these days, I'm going to spank those boys for my gray hairs!" her younger sister fretted as Priscilla Tregarth eased the van alongside her nephews' pick-up truck in the otherwise empty hospital parking lot. Priscilla spared her sister a rueful smile, glanced briefly at the mostly-abandoned hospital, and then focused on the tall, dark-haired man staring at what looked like a map. God. He hadn't changed a bit. Priscilla thought maybe her memories of Jack Harkness were exaggerated, especially since she was in her early teens when she last saw Jack. . .but no. No, he was just as beautiful as she remembered.

She wasn't the only one who noticed. Octavia breathed, "Oh. He looks just as I remember him. Dad wasn't pulling our legs when he said that Jack didn't die and aged very slowly, if at all." Priscilla nodded. She really couldn't blame her sister for believing that Jack's existence was just a story. There was a time when she felt the same way. The two sisters exchanged a long look, and then Priscilla turned off the engine and they left the van together. Jack lifted his head, hand hovering near his gun, and the wariness in his eyes nearly broke Priscilla's heart. Octavia said softly, compassionately, "Of course, there's a part of you that still expects to see little girls. Jack, it's us. . .Octavia and Priscilla."

He shook his head ruefully as he put away his gun and said, "Of course you are. Forgive me for not recognizing you?" _Well, that was a silly question for him to ask_! Priscilla didn't bother waiting for her sister to answer. She strode up to him and threw her arms around him in a fierce hug, and then pulled his head down to kiss him breathless. While he was still recovering from that shock, she punched him in the ribs. He stumbled back, one hand pressed to his side, and blurted out, "What was that for?" Priscilla was already regretting that bit of impulsiveness, but when she thought about Adriane's report from DC. . . It could be worse, she knew. Her daughter could have taped the encounter. She shuddered at the thought.

"That was for being so stupid in DC, confronting Oswald Danes! Did any thought go into that whole business, Jack Harkness, or was it one of those rare but always disastrous spur of the moment actions? And then you compounded your stupidity by letting those two thugs beat you up! You could have easily taken them!" Priscilla stormed at him. He opened his mouth, but Priscilla wasn't finished. She continued, her voice rising, "And before you ask, I know because my daughter Adriane was tailing you. She saw your confrontation with Danes. . .and I repeat myself, that was quite possibly the dumbest thing you've ever done on a personal level. . .and what followed. You let them hurt you, Jack!"

"And you just hurt him, big sis," Octavia said, before Priscilla could start ranting again. She was brought up short, by the observation and the endearment used. She was right. She _hated _it when Tavia was right! Her sister continued, "Mind you, Jack, I'm just as furious with you, but since she's decided to be the violent sister, I suppose I have to be the pacifist. I don't know if you were letting them punish you for being stupid or for what you had to do in the past, but that's not important. I still love you, because neither of us have any room to talk when it comes to mind-bogglingly stupidity. Do we, Priscilla Jeanne?"

This was said with a gimlet stare. Priscilla had no choice but to nod her acknowledgment of that particular truth, and she could only watch in amusement as her younger sister swooped in to hug the breath out of their father's best friend for so many years. Much to her amusement, Jack couldn't quite hold back a squeak, but to his credit, he returned the hug with interest, cradling the back of her sister's skull with the palm of his hand. Just as he always did when they were children, and Priscilla blinked back tears.

"Okay, this is really sweet and all, but Nat and Esther are waiting. We've sent the message, and Nat has acknowledged. We just need the captain's signal, and then we light up the night sky. Okay, so in this case, it's early morning," Lucas said, shifting his feet as Octavia released Jack and Priscilla took (another) turn. Priscilla realized as Jack pulled her in close that a) Jack probably made an innuendo of some kind, thoroughly embarrassing her younger nephew and b) her father's old friend smelled just as wonderful as her mother always said he did.

Jack gave a low chuckle that sent shivers up and down Priscilla's spine (to say nothing of tingles in other parts of her body) as he replied, "Believe me, boys, when I send that signal, there won't be _any_ mistaking it." Not surprisingly, Lucas blushed and Jason rolled his eyes. She had no idea how long Jack had been here, but in that short amount of time, it was enough to exasperate her older nephew and embarrass the younger. Typical of Jack. But would she have him any other way? Not a chance in hell! Jack continued, "And what will you ladies be doing?"

"Driving the getaway van. The boys will leave first, as soon as the first set of charges go off, and then once we signal them that we're clear, they'll blow the second set of charges. In the meantime, Dad is cleaning out the rest of the ranch house where we were staying, with some help from Natalie's daughter Ailsa. They'll meet us about an hour after we send the message that we're clear," Octavia observed as she leaned back against their van. She continued thoughtfully, "We might want to split up, though. . .one of us drives the getaway van, while the other one rides with whoever is driving your car."

"That would be me, and I'd welcome company other than him," observed a dark-skinned man standing behind the boys. He stepped forward, muttering about having to look at Jack Harkness for eight hours straight would make anyone blind. The sisters looked at each other, Octavia's lips trembling with barely suppressed laughter, Jack rolled his eyes, and the man added, "Sorry, suppose the polite thing to do would be to introduce myself. I'm Agent Rex Matheson. . .former CIA agent, and possible Torchwood operative, if Harkness here will cooperate. I understand that your daughter is inside, looking after Esther?"

"My daughter Natalie. . .yes, when our father discovered that your friend Esther was a prisoner of the Families, Nat volunteered to go in as a maid to keep an eye on her. She's been on the inside for two months, mopping the floors and trying to keep Esther as safe as possible, and we will be so glad to have her home. . .her daughter most of all," Priscilla replied. Octavia nodded emphatically, and so did the boys. There was a lost look in Jack's eyes for just a moment, reminding Priscilla of Jack's own lost families over the years. She added, "However, for now, we have a gift for you. Octavia, if you please?"

"All over it," Tavia replied and opened the doors of the van, drawing out the rather large box which was loaded into their van months earlier, when it was confirmed that the Families were holding Esther prisoner. Jack whistled softly, and Tavia threw a smile over her shoulder at him, saying, "Recognize it, huh? Dad said this was one of your favorite weapons. It was why he took it with him when he left with Mom's body. He was worried about what you might do with it. I remember when Dad first set up a meeting with Angelo Colasanto, he showed him that gun. I still don't know if it was confirmation that we did know you or a warning of what we're capable of doing. Could go either way with Dad."

"Angelo?" Jack gasped, jerking his hand back from the weapons case as if burned. Priscilla was on the verge of answering, but he shook his head, murmuring, "Never mind. Rescue Esther and Natalie now, talk about old friends later." He opened the case, running his hand gently along the gun, and murmured, "Hey, beautiful." The man who couldn't stay dead (_except, apparently, during Miracle Day_) turned and kissed Octavia just as Priscilla kissed him only a few minutes earlier. When they parted, Tavia was wearing a silly grin, Rex looked annoyed, and the two boys were staring at Jack and their mother in utter shock. Jack grinned broadly, that smile which Priscilla missed so much, and said, "We have two damsels in distress to rescue. Let's get to it."

"Can I be there when you tell Nat that he called her a damsel?" Jason whispered to his mother, before trotting after the Torchwood operative and the CIA agent, the latter of whom was chewing out the former for being stupid. Well, this could get interesting. Priscilla didn't know what his idea of 'stupid' was, but she was pretty sure that it wasn't the same as hers. Or her father's, for that matter. Behind the four men, the two sisters watched as whatever plan the quartet made was executed. And if Octavia slid her hand into Priscilla's, just as she had when they were children, then no one would ever know about it. There were some things best kept between sisters.

TWTWTWTWTW

5:30 am

A few doors down from Esther Drummond's room

The first blast woke Natalie at a quarter after five. She never meant to fall asleep. . .just rest her eyes after she received the final text from her cousins. But once the first blast went off, Natalie jolted awake, muttering curses under her breath as she rubbed at her eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she got a good night's sleep or the last time her shoulders weren't tight with tension. She reminded herself that this was her choice. But when this was all over, she was going to take a long nap, and the only person she wanted near her was her little girl. Once it was all over, and right now, she still had a job to do. Natalie forced herself to focus, and after the rush of personnel began, she made her way to Esther's room. It was still very early, and nearly everyone was groggy and stumbling around like zombies. Sloppy on the part of the Families, but there was no activity for three months. Natalie was always taught to worry when there was no activity. The Families should know that, they flew under the radar and hid in plain sight for eighty years. Then again, from what she could tell, they were so damn smug, it would never occur to them that Jack Harkness would come for his lost friend. Or, it could be a trap.

She found Esther sitting up in bed, looking tired and confused, but not scared. No, if anything, the girl looked determined and just a little mulish. Good. That was very good. Nat smiled at her reassuringly, moving to remove the IV from Esther's arm, and said, "It's okay, Esther. . .unless I miss my guess, that's my cousins and two of your friends: Captain Jack Harkness and Agent Rex Matheson." Esther's eyes lit up and Natalie continued as she began to disassemble the machinery that monitored Esther and kept her prisoner, "By the way, my real name is Natalie."

Esther started to speak, but then her eyes widened. Trouble. And Natalie simply reacted. She grabbed the IV stand and whirled around, smacking one of the doctors in the side. There was no hesitation, no time to fret about if it was the right thing to do. . .she dropped the stand, drew the sidearm she kept in a holster at her shoulder and fired once. The woman didn't move again. Natalie didn't bother with clever quips, simply holstered the weapon and continued to unhook Esther from the machinery. She asked only, "Can you walk?"

"I'm not sure," the other girl admitted, "but I'm sure gonna try. Jack and Rex are really here?" Natalie shrugged a little, positioning herself to help the blonde girl out of the bed. She hadn't seen them, but her cousins told her that the men were there. Esther was silent for a few minutes, and then observed, "They wanted to turn me against Jack. I don't know why. . .what sort of skills they think that I could have used against him, but that was what they wanted." Natalie bobbed her head. Yeah, that was the impression she got as well.

"I think the plan was to turn you against your friend first, successfully brainwash you while you were still vulnerable, and then work on your mad skillz later. It's how my grandfather would have done it, and he's been plotting against the Families for forty years, ever since he first met Angelo Colasanto," Natalie answered. Esther gasped and she offered the blonde girl a rueful smile, adding, "He and my grandfather were frenemies. There were times when my grandfather regarded him as an older brother or uncle. . .there were other times, when I swore that if they ever met again, they'd kill each other."

"I only know of him as the old man who died as Jack sat with him in the Colasanto compound. Jack still saw him as the young man he knew," Esther said quietly. Natalie just smiled at her gently. She could understand the girl's reaction. But to her, Angelo Colasanto was the kindly old man who beamed at her as she hid behind her grandfather's leg when she was a very little girl. He was the man who visited her in the hospital after the accident that nearly claimed her life nearly ten years earlier. The boy who accidently set Miracle Day into motion and the man whom her grandfather first met. . .he didn't truly exist for her.

"Well, Angelo and my grandfather both loved Jack Harkness. Sometimes they liked each other. . .and sometimes they hated each other. But Angelo Colasanto always said that he knew if something happened to him, my grandfather would take over for him. That's why recordings made at the Colasanto compound were relayed automatically to us. They both loved Jack Harkness, they both hated the Families, and that took precedence over all else," Natalie replied. Esther nodded slowly. She seemed on the point of asking something else, but the door exploded inward. Natalie shifted her body, just enough to shield Esther. But it wasn't necessary.

Two men swept into the room, holding guns. The blonde girl blurted out, "Jack!" She started forward, but her legs gave way, and Natalie caught her around the waist. Too much, too fast. And then, there was a man beside them both, scooping Esther into his arms. She wept, wrapping her own arms around his neck, "Jack. They wanted to turn me against you, Jack, they wanted to use me to hurt you!" Natalie released Esther, allowing the man to take her full weight, and rose slowly to her feet, turning to the other man with a tired smile.

"I'm Natalie Tregarth. . .I'm guessing you're Rex Matheson?" she inquired, offering her hand. The man tucked his gun back in its holster and accepted her hand warily. He looked to be about her own age, maybe a few years older; dark-skinned, with dark eyes that kept sweeping across the room. He looked wary and tired and more than a little worried. Feeling uncomfortable with the strange tension between the three and with staying here much longer, Nat suggested, "I think we should hold off on the reunion until we're all out of this safely. I doubt Esther can walk right now. . .she's been bedridden for three months. I suggest that you and I clear the path, while Captain Harkness carries Esther."

"Probably the best idea, World War II. Esther, you got anything you wanna take with us?" the man asked and Esther shook her head, clinging to the man who held her. Nat hadn't gotten a good look at him yet, but right now, it didn't matter. Freedom was a very short distance away. Matheson said softly, "You lead the way. But I'll tell you now, you betray us and I'll put a bullet in you myself." Natalie smiled at him thinly as she withdrew her own pistol and fired a bullet through the brain of a guard who barreled into the room. _Asshole_. If he weren't Esther's friend, she'd probably put a bullet in him herself, just for being annoying and an asshole. That wasn't entirely true. . .her grandfather wanted to talk to him, as well as Harkness.

"If I betray you, my life won't be worth anything in my family, forget what you'll do to me. My grandfather is almost ninety years old, and he's got some very creative punishments when it comes to betrayal. So, if you're done issuing threats to people who are helping you, I strongly suggest that we get a goddamn move-on! Esther, you hang on, hon. We're almost home and I am determined to hold my daughter before the end of the night," Natalie answered coldly. She double-checked her ammo. . .best make her remaining shots count. _Dammit_. Well, there wasn't anything for it. She wouldn't be the only one firing. A sound behind her had her turning defensively, but only found Esther on her feet, clinging to Harkness with both arms around his waist. Huh? Her question was answered a moment later when the man reached behind his back and offered a second pistol to her, handle first.

"I won't be needing this in the immediate future. . .just make sure you give it back to me when this is all over," the man observed. For the first time, Natalie looked at him. . .and wished she hadn't. Guh. She was pretty sure her brain just melted. She shook herself, accepted the gun, conducted a brief inspection, and then tucked it into her secondary holster at her hip. Right. She had a job to do and a daughter who was waiting for her. Disappointing Ailsa wasn't even an option for her. And if Matheson threatened her again, she'd kick him in the balls once they were clear of this hellhole. She did not go through three months of hell, averaging three hours of sleep a night, being spoken to as if she was a particularly slow child, to be threatened by some puffed up CIA agent with delusions of grandeur. In the back of her mind, she knew that she was being unfair to him, but she was tired, she ached, and she wanted to return to her family.

"Thanks. Let's go, then. I'll go first, check the corridor. There are maybe twenty people who work here, so we shouldn't meet much resistance. Even so, I think getting Esther out should be our top priority, so you should come next, Captain. . .and Agent Big-Mouth there should bring up the rear," Natalie replied. The dark-haired man currently shifting Esther back into his arms and against his chest nodded his agreement, his lips twitching. Nat slipped to the door, pistol held at the ready, and peeked outside. So far, the coast was clear. She motioned the middle two forward, murmuring, "We need to move fast. . .don't know how long my cousins' distractions will work. Will you be okay, carrying her?" The man nodded, his arms tightening around Esther protectively, and Nat bit back a smile. Okay, that worked. She whispered, "Let's go."

She swept through the halls, just as her aunt Octavia taught her, and wondered if her aunt and mother met up with Harkness yet. She hoped so. She knew that her aunt and mom thought a great deal of him, but someone needed to explain to her how a man whom her mother and aunt remembered from when they were children could possibly be barely forty. Later. She had to stay focused on the mission. If she got distracted, then she or one of the others would die. And after they all went through, that simply wasn't acceptable!

TWTWTWTWTW

She buried her face against the warm skin of Jack's neck, clinging to him with all of her strength. He was here, he was real, he came for her. He smelled so good, so like Jack. She whispered, "They wanted to turn me against you. Nat says they wanted to get me while I was still vulnerable. I might have done it, too, if it weren't for her. She kept me sane, Jack, she reminded me of who I was. She never talked to the guards, she always kept her head down, but she would smile and talk to me if it was just us."

She felt Jack's arms tighten around her. He didn't say anything. . .was too focused on following Natalie and making sure they got out safely. Esther continued, "I was thinking about you, just before I lost consciousness. There were so many things I wanted to tell you, things I should have said before I left for Buenos Aires and you left for Shanghai with Gwen. You need to know, I'm so glad that I met you. . .even if you did make me forget for a while." She felt, rather than heard, Jack laugh, and Esther added, "I'm so glad I met you, Captain Jack Harkness, and I wouldn't give that up for anything, no matter what happens."

"I'm glad I met you, too, Esther Drummond. But no more talk like that, we are getting out of here. I won't allow for any other outcome," Jack replied. She hugged him tightly. He didn't understand, but that was all right. It didn't matter. She told him what she wanted to say when she thought she was dying. She had that out of the way, and could focus on the future. She lifted her head to smile at Rex, who just scowled. Esther rolled her eyes. Still the same Rex. She would deal with him later. Right now, she would keep silent, conserve her strength, and let Jack, Nat, and Rex do their jobs.

"Hold up. . .something isn't right. . ." Nat hissed over her shoulder, and then gave a small squeak. Jack was already in motion, swinging Esther around so that she was faced away from whatever was happening. It wasn't necessary. There was a second squeak, the sound of flesh landing on flesh, and then Nat hissed, "You little _brat_! What if I shot you?" Jack turned back, allowing Esther to see an obviously-irate Natalie thoroughly scolding a young man about Esther's own age. The immortal and the girl in his arms exchanged a smile, and it felt so familiar, so comfortable, so right. Nat was winding down her rant, adding, "Just for that, you and Lucas can flank Captain Harkness and Esther. I'm just hours from seeing my Ailsa again, and you two dingbats are not getting in the way. No one is!"

"Ma'am, yes ma'am!" the young man retorted, winking at Esther. He stared at Jack, asking as he took up position alongside Jack and Esther, "Do I need to worry about you keeping your hands to yourself, Captain?" Natalie snarled something in a language that Esther didn't recognize, and the young man blanched, hands going automatically to his privates. He squeaked, "Yes, ma'am. . .no more comments from the peanut gallery. And just to let you know, we shouldn't encounter any resistance." And then he mouthed, nodding to his cousin, '_she's scary_!' Funny. Esther thought while the transformation from the drab, pleasant maid to this woman was a little alarming, it was also reassuring. . .reassuring that she was on Esther's side, that is.

"Not to worry, Corporal Martinelli. . .I tend to avoid mixing business and pleasure these days. And I already have my hands full. . .speaking metaphorically and literally," Jack retorted. Esther buried her face against his jacket, stifling her laughter. Oh, she missed him! There was a snort of laughter from the young man on the other side. Natalie again spoke in that language that Esther couldn't identify, and this time, Jack laughed softly, murmuring, "Haven't heard that one in a while. I'm not sure if you're old enough for me to translate, Esther. Hell, I'm not sure if _I_'m old enough to translate it!" That drew a huff of laughter from the woman in front of them, who continued her sweep through the otherwise-abandoned corridors.

"I'll tell her later," Natalie promised, "we're almost to the. . .aw hell, BACK!" The command was hissed, rather than barked, but it lost none of its power. The entire group back-pedaled or moved nearer to the wall. Jack and Esther were in the second group. In fact, Esther was sandwiched between the wall and Jack, wishing she had the strength to walk. If she could walk, then Jack would have his hands free to fight back or flirt or whatever he. . . Natalie's voice overrode her thoughts, though she had competition with Jack's warm breath tickling Esther's skin. She shivered a little and Jack held her tighter. Natalie said next, "Why are you doing this?" It didn't sound like she was worried. . .more like curious. Esther hoped that was a good sign.

"Because this isn't right. None of this is right, and I'm so tired of pretending it is. I'm tired of it all," came another voice. Esther frowned. . .did that voice sound familiar? It was a young man, very young. There was a brief silence, and then the boy said, "Get out of here, now. Please. These are evil people, Tal, so evil. You know this. I don't know why the blonde is so important, or if she's just a link to someone else. It doesn't matter. I can't be a part of this anymore. I just **can't**." Jack pulled away from the wall, ever so slightly, and Esther could now see a young man talking earnestly to Natalie. She could also see one of Natalie's cousins shifting ever slightly. Then his arm moved and the boy slumped over, but he never hit the ground.

"And you don't have to be. Good work, Lucas, he's going with us," Natalie ordered. Rex must have made a face, because Natalie snapped, "Do you have a problem with that, Agent Matheson? Take it up with my grandfather. I will not leave that boy here at the tender mercies of the Families! They do not treat failures or perceived betrayals kindly. Call me weird, call me crazy, but I refuse to punish him for doing the right thing. Lucas, you got him okay? Is it gonna be a problem for you to carry him?" Evidently, Lucas shook his head, for Natalie continued, "Good. Move double-time. . .shut up, Jason, I do pay attention to your stories."

"I don't want the kid to be hurt, either, but that takes another gun out of the equation. Slows us down, too," Esther heard Rex murmur. Again, she felt guilty for her inability to walk. They were already slowed down by her still-wobbly legs. Jack's arms again tightened around her, as if he knew what she was thinking. Rex continued as they started forward, "And maybe I'm being an ass, Miss Tregarth, but I don't know you or your family, and I've got no reason to trust any of you. Even World War II isn't entirely sure of you."

"Perhaps. But Captain Harkness didn't threaten me. From what I hear, he has every reason to distrust my family, but he's here because Esther's life and freedom is far more important to him than his misgivings. Now, maybe I'm being a bitch. I probably am. However, I haven't slept properly in months, my only contact with my family has been by way of texts during that time, and quite frankly, I don't have the energy or patience to deal with you. I was warned that Captain Harkness could be difficult, but you define that term. So shut up and haul ass!" Natalie snapped. She rather effectively ended the conversation by turning her back and stalking away.

Jack, showing admirable restraint, said nothing, but followed her with an appreciative glance at her body. He glanced at Esther almost sheepishly, but she grinned at him. That was just how Jack was. Her reward was one of his more devastating smiles. She buried her face against his coat again, hugging him tightly. She heard Jason saying softly, "Nat, I think that our unconscious friend has been helping us for a while. Even my diversions aren't that good. I need to investigate further, but it's almost as if he knew this was coming. What, exactly, did he do?"

"He was an orderly. What, are you thinking that he hacked into our systems?" Natalie asked, sounding worried. _Well_, Esther thought, _that's another argument in Natalie's favor. If he knew they were rescuing me today, that would lead the Families back to her family, and to us_. Judging from Rex's expression, he knew that as well. Natalie shook her head and muttered, "Jason, call ahead to your mom, let her know there might be a security breach. She probably already knows, but I really prefer to give her as much advanced warning as possible."

"Mom says she loves you, too," Jason retorted and Nat released her bracing hand around her wrist to tuck one hand behind her back and flip off her cousin. Jason snorted with laughter and continued, "But yeah, she's already relayed the message to Grandfather. And asks that you remember that's why we have disposable cell phones. His suggestion is that we have a huge-ass party in which we totally annihilate the damn things. Her words, not his." Esther blinked. It sounded like Esther, Jason, and Lucas came from an interesting family. Interesting in a good way, not in a bad way.

"Actually, if I know Carlyon at all, his exact words were something like this," Jack said, and then said in a very elegant English accent, "Kindly remind Natalie that we purchased disposable mobiles for a reason. However, if it reassures her, we will thoroughly destroy them once the mission is complete." Now Esther could feel the cool night air on her face and on her bare feet, and it felt so good. The entire journey through the hospital took no more than five minutes. So strange, that freedom was so close all this time. But she really had no idea where she was in the hospital. Jack asked, switching back to his normal accent, "How close was I?" Natalie didn't turn around, but this time, the hand gesture she made behind her back was far more complimentary: a thumb's up. Jack murmured, "Good to know some things haven't changed."

"Damn, that was good! How in the hell do you know our grandfather? Our mother and aunt talk as if they knew you when they were little girls, but you're not much older than Natalie is," Lucas said admiringly. Rex huffed a little as they slowly and cautiously descended the steps out of the hospital. Lucas added after a moment, "Hey, Jase. . .what was that super secret bonus feature that you mentioned, the one that was going to keep the entire hospital staff focused away from Miss Drummond's room? 'Cause I'm really curious about that rather cryptic remark about the lack of resistance." So was Esther, who was seeing the rising sun for the first time in months.

"Oh, that? My diversionary tactics? Nothing big, really. Just locked as many staff members in one of the rooms as I could. And, uhm, during the last few weeks, Grandfather has been gleefully creating several viruses to create headaches for our world-conquering friends. Once the staff members were secure, I planted those viruses. Should buy us enough time, assuming there aren't more levels that we didn't know about. . .which Grandfather acknowledged was possible, but we couldn't lose any more time. And you did the rest, little brother," Jason replied, sounding very pleased with himself. He paused, and then added, "Lucas, you and I are heading back in the pickup. . .put the kid in the back, under the tarp. Not real comfortable, but safe for the moment."

"Go, we should be able to handle it from here. We've got two guns, four if you count Mom and Aunt Octavia. Be careful, I love you, and be safe!" Natalie instructed her two younger cousins. Lucas and Jason both nodded, and raced across the parking lot to their pick-up, Lucas slowed a little by the young man he was carrying across his shoulders. Esther only hoped the rest of the rescue went this easily. Of course, they couldn't get that lucky.

TWTWTWTW

Jack was painfully aware that things were going too easily. Even taking into account that it was an operation planned by Carlyon Tregarth, things were going too easily. Which meant that Esther wasn't the target at all, but the bait. Oh, Esther would be allowed to get away, just like the rest of the Tregarth family would be allowed to get away. For now. But Jack was whom they wanted. He couldn't regret his actions, though, even if they did get caught. Esther was still young, she didn't deserve whatever fate they planned for her. And he hadn't seen Carlyon in forty years, so he couldn't be sure if his old friend had a contingency plan in place.

"I can hear those wheels turning, Captain. If you're thinking of giving yourself up, you put those thoughts right out of your pretty little head," Natalie Tregarth said. Esther gave a startled little gasp and Jack did a double take. She was stalking toward the van where her mother and aunt awaited. Never bothering to look over her shoulder, she added, "It was mentioned to me that you might suggest sacrificing yourself so the rest of us can get away, if this turned out to be a trap. He told me to remind you of a particular operation in 1945, in which you did sacrifice yourself. I was further instructed to remind you that he's almost ninety years old, and not strong enough to endure something like that a second time. So. No sacrificing yourself."

"Amen to that, baby doll. Agent Matheson, my sister is in your car. Yes, she moved it, and don't bother complaining. She has the directions to the rendezvous point, in case we get separated. Go," Priscilla said, opening the van doors. Rex nodded, biting back whatever he was about to say, and took off toward the car they drove from Colorado. He mouthed, 'take care of her' and Jack nodded. He would do that, with pleasure. With a mischievous grin at Esther, he reflected that it might be her pleasure as well, if she was inclined in that direction.

There was the sound of a car door slamming and an engine revving up. Tavia and Rex peeled out of the parking lot, and Jack rolled his eyes. He should have expected that. The oldest Tregarth daughter lay out a blanket, while Natalie grabbed the keys and raced around to the driver's seat. Starting the car. Good. After a moment, the girl returned and her mother shooed her forward, saying, "Get in. Nat, help Jack get Esther ins. . .SHIT!" Jack was settling Esther on her feet, when he froze at Priscilla's expletive. Careful to shield Esther with his own body, he straightened up and turned to see three of the Families' operatives standing a few yards away, holding a gun on the three of them. Priscilla growled, "Where did these idiots come from and why didn't Matheson see them?"

"From under the ground," came the proud response, "an old storm cellar that is now used for. . . well, it doesn't matter now. We waited. . .monitored the situation. . .and when the time was right, we left our shelter and here you are. Torchwood isn't the only ones who have cloaking technology, you know. Typical of the Tregarths. . .oh yes, we know whom you are. Carlyon Tregarth, former director of Torchwood Three until 1965. We know about your mother as well, Priscilla Tregarth. You can take the bimbo with you. . .she's not the one we wanted, she never was. I just want him." The woman nodded to Jack, who eased Esther into the van, shielding her all the while. Not surprisingly, Priscilla and Natalie took up flanking positions alongside him, both pointing their guns at the Families members. For a moment, Jack was reminded of another incident, in which he was flanked by Carlyon and his wife Sophia.

"Not gonna happen, girlfriend, never gonna happen. Now, the odds are about even. Can the three of you take us out? Possibly. Because that's what has to happen. . .we are not letting you have Jack. Not now, not ever," Priscilla answered firmly. In answer, the three women aimed their pistols at Jack, and Priscilla snorted, "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Nat, sweetheart, pick your target. On three. . ." There were six shots, and Jack felt the entirely too familiar sensation of a bullet tearing through his gut. Behind them, Esther gave a wordless cry of distress. But all of the opposing trio were all dead, and as Jack fell to his knees, Priscilla growled, "Help me get him into the van, Nat. If those three bimbos found us, others will. Dammit, I warned Dad about this possibility!"

Jack felt himself being pulled up between the mother and daughter, and then eased into the back of the van, where Esther immediately pulled him into her arms protectively. Poor girl. This had to be bringing back memories of their flight from the Colasanto compound and the harrowing days that followed. He heard Natalie's questioning, '_mom_?' as well as Priscilla's response, "Get in back with Jack and Esther, honey, and I promise I'll explain everything later. I promise. I just need you to get in back, so we can get on our way. There's a little girl who is looking very much to seeing you." Oh. Emotional blackmail. That always worked well. Still, if it meant getting away from this place, Jack was all in favor of it.

There was the thump of feet on the floor (Natalie jumping inside the van, no doubt), and a shadow fell briefly in the van, visible even with Jack's graying vision. Seconds later, there was another thump as Priscilla slammed the van doors closed behind her older daughter, the sound of a hand smacking the side of the van, before the driver's side door opened and closed Jack allowed his eyes to drift shut. Oh God, he hurt so badly. Gut-wounds were bad enough, but all three of 'em fired at the same time, and Jack wasn't sure if he was shot once or three times. He tried to find the strength to tell Esther that he would be back as soon as he could, but found he didn't have the strength.

The last thing he felt was Esther's fingers stroking through his hair. . .the last thing he heard was Natalie's ragged breathing, in and out in time with the rumbling of the engine. And then oblivion sucked him in once more. When he sucked air back into his lungs a short time later, he found himself looking down the barrel of Natalie Tregarth's gun as the obviously-spooked young woman half-stood and half-crouched over him, shouting, "Mom, what the hell is going on here! I saw him die and now he's alive again!" Jack closed his eyes and sank back into Esther's arms. It wasn't just reassuring Natalie that he was no threat to her, his head was pounding from the resurrection headache. One thing he didn't miss while he was mortal.

"Natalie Sophia, put the gun down!" Priscilla cried out, actually sounding more worried and frightened than angry. Someone was drawing breath raggedly, and his bet was on Natalie, rather than on her mother. The woman pleaded, softening her voice ever so slightly, "Please, baby, I know I promised to explain, but you have got to put that gun down. I know you're exhausted and I know we've asked a lot of you. I have to ask you to trust me now. Jack is not a threat to you, he won't hurt you. He would never hurt you, baby doll, I promise." For the first time, Jack realized they were no longer moving. Well, that would make sense, given that Natalie was half-standing and half-crouching. He opened his eyes when a second gunshot didn't come. Natalie looked terrified and exhausted and at the end of her tether. He remembered what she said in the hospital about how long she was inside hostile territory on her own.

She slowly lowered the gun, rasping out, "That's why they wanted him. He. . .he dies, but he comes back. And people didn't die during those two godawful months. They did something to him, and now they want him back." Several half-truths sewn together, but Jack didn't have the energy to explain the truth to her right now. The safety was clicked on, and she whispered, "My God. . .how many times have you died and come back? That's why you look so young, but my mom and Aunt 'Tavia remember you from when they were little girls."

Natalie raised weary eyes to her mother, adding, "That's why you swore they wouldn't get their hands on him. It wasn't just about not leaving a man behind, but you knew that they would try again. Plans within plans within plans. If they couldn't turn Esther against him, then they could lure him back in." The gun was now tucked in the holster behind her back once more, and she sagged against the side of the van, tears rolling down her cheeks. Jack watched her warily as she whispered, "God, I almost got the whole mess started again. I'd never even seen those three bitches, and I. . .I should have realized there had to be more to the compound than what I saw. I know this part of the country, I know about the tornadoes and the storm shelters, I should have realized that there was something like that here."

"It wasn't your fault," Jack said hoarsely as Esther eased him upright. She smiled at him, giving him a nudge toward the woman who cared for her during all this time. The trembling woman looked up at him, blinking back tears that continued to roll down her cheeks, and Jack continued, "It wasn't your fault. There was no way of knowing about the storm shelters. . .there were no other buildings, no reason to suspect that there would be a storm shelter around here. You provided all the information you had, and you kept Esther safe, risking your own life in the process. I know what the Families would have done to you if they caught you, and it would have been ugly. You said it yourself when that boy helped us. You did your job, Natalie Sophia Tregarth, and everyone got out."

"He's right, princess," Priscilla soothed, crawling up from the driver's seat. Her daughter looked at her with wet eyes, and Priscilla continued, "You provided us with the information you had, the information you could access. Remember, sweetheart? You asked early on if we wanted you to access the computers, and your grandfather said no because it was too risky. You carried out your mission. You got Esther out of that place, and the only fatality was Jack. And the three bitch Cousins, but those three twits don't count." That provoked a weak smile and Priscilla added, "Rest now, baby doll. Rest and relax. Everything is gonna be all right. Just rest." She eased her daughter so that Natalie was lying on her side, and then asked Esther softly, "You feel up to watching over these two for me until we get to the rendezvous point?"

"Of course. I have plenty of practice in taking care of Jack, and Natalie looked after me for so long, it's only right that I return the favor now. We'll be fine," Esther promised. Jack shifted his weight, allowing Esther to move to her former caretaker's side. Priscilla smiled at her gratefully and scampered back to the driver's seat. Jack leaned against the side of the van as it started up once more, closing his eyes wearily. He heard Natalie's tearful apology and Esther's gentle reassurance that it was understandable. It wasn't every day that you saw a man come back to life, after all. Jack smiled at that.

"How many times have you died?" Natalie asked again. Jack opened his eyes, to find the brunette resting against Esther's shoulder. He gave his young friend an apologetic smile, but she shook her head with a reassuring look. Natalie continued, "It's just. . .you died. And you came back, and. . .I mean. . .I should expect strange things, between the kids speaking in unison, and the Earth literally moving, and people not dying regardless of what happens to them. Things have been really strange over the last few years, so I should expect strange things, and you're not a thing, you're a person, but. . ."

"I don't know," Jack admitted honestly, "many times. I lost count after. . .after two of my friends, my teammates, died while protecting Cardiff." There was considerably more to the story than that, but Jack wasn't ready to tell this girl (because even at thirty-five, to him, she _was_ a girl) about how a mistake he made when he was a child was responsible for Cardiff in specific and the UK in general nearly being wiped from the map. Nor was he ready to tell her about the nearly two thousand years he spent buried alive for that same mistake. He came to terms with that mistake, and learned to live with himself. . .just as he learned to live with himself, eventually, after Steven. Natalie stared at him for a few minutes, before nodding slightly. _Meaning_, Jack reflected ruefully, _she'll accept that, but only for now. Definitely belongs to Carlyon and Sophia_.

"Does it hurt? I mean, I would imagine that dying can hurt. . .I've never met anyone who dies and comes back to life, so I can only use my imagination. . .but doesn't coming back to life have to hurt, too? It's like when we sit in the same place too long, and our arms or legs go to sleep. It hurts when feeling returns to that limb. . .it's the same thing?" Natalie asked. It seemed she wasn't done asking questions, but under the circumstances, he really couldn't blame her. Jack blinked at her. He never even considered that take on it, but he couldn't deny that she had a point. A very good point, really.

"It does hurt. . .the best way I can describe is being dragged across broken glass," he admitted. Natalie cringed, and he hoped that she had no idea what that actually felt like. Jack, unfortunately, did. Thanks to the Master, who had some very creative ways to kill Jack during that year on the Valiant. Esther, he noted, was listening intently as well. Though he told her about Torchwood and his deaths during those two months after he was shot, she never saw him die and come back to life. He asked her softly, "Are you okay, Esther Drummond?"

"I'm fine," she reassured him, "I knew what to expect, even if I never saw it before. I'm sorry, Natalie, I should have explained it to you myself, but I really wasn't sure what to expect, if that makes any sense whatsoever." Jack shook his head. He couldn't blame either one of them. And he really didn't blame Natalie for her reaction. Maybe if she was at her best when she saw him die, she wouldn't have pulled a gun on him. But she didn't actually shoot him, and that was important. Esther continued softly, "Why don't you go to sleep, Natalie? Jack and I can watch over you." Natalie nodded sluggishly, body relaxing against Esther's, and the blonde girl tightened her arms around her caretaker. She smiled at Jack over Natalie's head, observing, "I guess we don't need to Retcon her." Jack shook his head and smiled back ruefully. No. No, there was no need to Retcon her. She was already Torchwood, even if she didn't know it yet. It was her birthright, her legacy. . .and Jack suspected that she would accept that.

TBC


	3. A Proposition Between Friends

Author's Notes: I'm not picking on Rex. Really, I'm not. I'm just trying to look through the eyes of a World War II veteran, and I can't imagine Rex's habit of calling Jack 'World War II' because of the way he dresses would go over that well with Carlyon. (And really, I don't find Jack's style of dress all that strange) As to the meeting between Carlyon and Jack, I thought about a kiss. However, Carlyon is 'played' in my imagination by Christopher Lee, and my brain shut down every time I considered a kiss between the characters. Sorry. I hope Carlyon's affectionate gesture works just as well.

Chapter Three

A Proposition Between Friends

An abandoned filling station outside the metropolitan area of Amarillo, TX

10 am

"Ganda, is Mommy coming?"

Carlyon Tregarth looked down at the child clinging to his fingers. Five year old Ailsa looked up at him with trusting brown eyes, clinging to his fingers. Carlyon looked down at the child, stroking his free hand over her light brown hair tenderly as he replied, "Yes, darling. I just spoke with Mama Priscilla and they'll be joining us in just a few minutes. You've missed your mummy, haven't you?" Ailsa nodded sadly and Carlyon stroked her hair again, murmuring, "As have I."

But that was only part of the reason for his. . .discomfort. Natalie wasn't the only one who was coming. He had waited forty years for this day, and now that it was finally here. . . Yes, he was nervous. He rested a hand against the side of the moving van. His entire world was in this van. . .or rapidly approaching. There were three cars coming. . .one contained his two grandsons. In another car was his middle daughter Octavia and former CIA agent Rex Matheson (and he had a few things to say to the agent). And finally, in a van much smaller than this one, his oldest daughter approached with Ailsa's mum, young Esther Drummond, and Captain Jack Harkness. And it was this final individual that was causing Carlyon's anxiety.

Ailsa squealed, jumping up and down happily, "Ganda! There they are, there they are!" Indeed they were. He couldn't help smiling at the little girl's excitement, even as he winced at the pressure she was putting on his poor, abused fingers. Ailsa kindly released his hand and flung her short little arms around his leg instead. That was, he suspected, as much to make sure she didn't run out in front of the cars as it was a demonstration of affection. Priscilla and Natalie both drilled that into her head. _Wait until the car stops_!

The pickup was the first to park, and a few seconds after the engine was shut off, his two grandsons emerged. Ailsa looked up at him beseechingly, but he shook his head. Not until all three cars were present and parked. She pouted, just a little, but waved wildly at the boys. Jason growled and sped across the short distance, swinging Ailsa up into his arms and around, much to the little girl's delight. Lucas called after him, following at a slightly more sedate place, "Just remember, if she hurls, you get to clean her up!" Jason responded with a classical hand gesture, which made Carlyon roll his eyes.

The car driven by Matheson and Jack from Colorado was the next to arrive, and no big surprise, Octavia was driving. Also not a surprise. . .the bickering he heard coming from his middle daughter and the former agent as they exited the car. What did surprise him was what they were bickering about. As the pair started toward them, Octavia was saying, "You've gotta be on crack, Matheson! Def Leppard outclasses Poison by a country mile and in this part of the West, that's saying a lot!" Ailsa giggled, Tavia's two sons groaned and face-palmed, and Tavia left off harassing the agent to squeal, "Ailsa! Oh, come here, honey! I haven't gotten a hug from you in days!"

Ailsa happily lunged out of her cousin's arms and into Tavia's. Carlyon winced, hoping that his daughter didn't further injure her back. But if she was hurting, she didn't give any sign of it. She told the agent, "This beautiful, amazing child is my niece. . .Ailsa Kerren Tregarth. And before you accuse Natalie of making up her name, it's a variation of an old Cornish name, 'Kerensa.' Nat thought 'Ailsa Kerensa' sounded weird, so she chose 'Kerren' instead. They'll be here in a minute, Dad. I'm guessing that the incoming van gets abandoned with a nasty little surprise for the Families?"

"A **very** nasty surprise, my dear. In fact, if your sons wouldn't mind assisting me, I'll get that ready while we're waiting for the others," Carlyon replied. Octavia inclined her head to her boys, who readily joined Carlyon at the back of the moving van. Matheson followed suit, and as the door slid open, Carlyon added, "It's the first three crates. Mind you leave the large one alone, and don't kick the generator. It should have enough energy for the rest of our journey, but I don't want to run the risk."

"Got it, Grandfather. . .we've done this before, remember? Okay, Agent, if you wanna help, you can take the crate from me after Lucas passes it down. Ailsa, baby, stay with Mom so you don't get hurt, ok? Your mom would hurt us if anything happened to you," Jason observed. _Oh yes, she would_. And Carlyon would help her. Jason went on, "First crate incoming. . .guh, Grandfather, what do you have in here, chopped up body parts? It smells bad enough!" Matheson's brows shot into his hairline and Octavia snickered.

"Indeed, dear boy. . .low tech has its place, after all," Carlyon informed his grandson, never cracking a smile. It wasn't necessary. . .both Octavia and Ailsa were giggling hysterically. Matheson was staring at him, as if not entirely sure what to think, and Carlyon sighed, "It was a joke, Agent Matheson. Although, I suppose I shouldn't blame you, since you only met my family today. Jason and Lucas were being unusually restrained today, mainly because they wished to protect Natalie."

"I should be used to it, travelin' with World War II for all that time," Matheson grumbled as he placed the first crate carefully on the ground. Carlyon felt ice surge through his veins and as the agent straightened up for the next crate, he found himself face to face with a highly-perturbed eighty-nine year old Torchwood operative and World War II veteran. Matheson took a half step back, saying, "Uhm. . ."

"That man fought in World War II, Agent Matheson. He fought in World War I, and he has shed blood for this world many times over. He sacrificed his life and pieces of the soul. For those sacrifices, he has been called a monster and worse. And when you call him World War II so derisively for the way he dresses, you dishonor him and you dishonor the boys who served with us. They deserve better than that," Carlyon snarled. He glowered down at the other man, who blinked and swallowed hard.

"Daddy, he doesn't know any better. He's younger than I am, and I was born nearly fifteen years after the war. You never talked about it, and Mama just got a haunted look in her eyes," Octavia pointed out as the other van pulled up. She murmured as Ailsa began squirming, "On the other hand, the agent may be jealous because he couldn't pull off that look if he tried. . .and it fits Jack perfectly. In more ways that one." Carlyon shot his middle daughter a hard look. Octavia merely shrugged and pointed out, "I'm a widow, Dad, I'm not dead. And Priscilla wasn't the only one with a crush on Jack."

"MOMMY!" Ailsa shrieked, nearly deafening poor Octavia. She carefully set the little girl down and propelled her forward with a swat to her little bum. Ailsa was too excited seeing the tired-looking young woman who emerged from the back of the van to glower at Tavia, instead choosing to speed off, shrieking, '_Mommy_!' all the while. Carlyon had the pleasure of seeing Natalie's tired expression dissolve into a bright smile. She dropped to one knee and opened her arms to the little girl. Ailsa threw herself into her mother's arms, giggling joyfully as Natalie scooped her up and twirled in place.

"Oh, now everything's all right," Octavia murmured as they watched the reunion. No, not quite. But it soon would be. He signaled his two grandsons to continue working. Carlyon would give them this time. After all this time, that was the least he owed Natalie. That, and letting her sleep as long as she needed to once they returned to the homestead. Strange. When he first arrived in the States, he wanted nothing to do with the stark landscape of Oklahoma, yet he now longed for the red dirt and houses three and four miles apart. But first. . .

There. Octavia and Priscilla both told him that he hadn't changed noticeably. Maybe he would notice the changes later, but for now, the dark-haired man walking toward him with Priscilla and a slim blonde girl. . .he looked just the same as he did back in 1965 when Carlyon last saw him. Octavia murmured, "Go to him, Dad. Have faith that he won't deck you." Carlyon glared at his daughter, only to find her staring at him seriously as she repeated, "Go to him. Explanations can wait. You've missed him even more than Pris and I have. Go to him."

Jack was staring at the laughing, dancing mother and daughter, and Carlyon wondered what he saw. Was it his daughter and grandson? Former lovers or wives with their children? What did he see? Did Carlyon have a right to know? Then he caught sight of Carlyon himself and the familiar grin slid into place. Good thing that Carlyon knew Jack too well to be fooled by that smile. He approached the other man and said, "It's good to see you. I was worried about you during Miracle Day, Jack. Even before the Colasantos poked their collective noses in."

"Yeah, Pris and Tave mentioned that you knew Angelo," Jack answered, neatly side-stepping that horrifying night. _Typical Jack_. The immortal continued, "Thank you, for the information and the assistance in rescuing Esther. I admit I don't understand what was in it for you, but I'm grateful, nonetheless." Carlyon forced his hand to stay at his side, where it was safe. Now that Jack was closer, the toll of the years could be seen in his old friend's eyes. And Carlyon could not escape the knowledge that he caused some of those shadows. But he would make things right. Jack continued, "Should I even ask how you and Angelo knew each other?"

"Angelo was the first person I met when I moved to the Southwest in the early 1970's. It was Angelo who told me about the Families, and I knew I had to help take them down. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, ending the Miracle still fell on your shoulders," Carlyon explained. Octavia rolled her eyes. Yes, he was quite familiar with his middle daughter's feelings on that. She made her thoughts about just about everything known very clearly on a regular basis.

"What Dad is failing to tell you, Jack, is that during the Miracle, we were struggling to take care of our community. As you can imagine, there were food shortages almost immediately. We all had food stored away, in case of inclement weather and such. Most of the people whose parents or grandparents lived through the Depression and the dust storms during that time period had food stored as well, but some of the newer people didn't," Octavia explained.

"So, we distributed food where we could. I mean, it was a community-wide effort, but we were right in the thick of it," Natalie put in, walking over with Ailsa still in her arms. Ailsa was tucked herself against her mother's chest, head resting on her shoulder. Natalie was stroking her hair and back, as she went on, "We had some interesting moments. Adriane was in Washington DC, but she refuses to tell me what she was doing." His eldest daughter coughed, '_spying on Jack_,' and Natalie added, "Yeah, well, she was doing more than that. Something traumatized her while she was there."

"You don't know Harkness," Matheson put in, and then quailed at the look he got from all three adult Tregarth females. Carlyon himself blinked, and wondered just what Matheson did to infuriate all three. The rising tension in the parking lot was becoming increasing uncomfortable, to say nothing of being counterproductive, when Ailsa giggled unexpectedly. Matheson stared at the little girl, shocked by this turn of events, when his face began to crease into a smile. He folded his arms over his chest, asking, "You think that's funny, do you?"

"Uh-huh. You're a funny man!" Ailsa announced brightly, and the tension began to dissipate. Nat buried her face in her daughter's hair. Esther simply covered her mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, while Octavia and Priscilla simply smiled at each other. Ailsa continued after a moment, "You're a silly man, too. And he's the pretty man." Matheson roared with laughter at that announcement, as the little girl indicated Jack, who just smiled gently at her. Ailsa studied his face, before adding solemnly, "He's a sad man, too. Pretty and sad."

"Not so much anymore, little one. Do you need help setting up whatever that is, Carlyon? Or. . ." Jack began. He stopped in mid-sentence as something caught his eye. Something that was not quite hidden away but also not out in plain view. Carlyon swallowed, but watched in silence as Jack approached the open van. He jumped lightly in the back, still as cat-like as Carlyon remembered, and then approached the large box. It was the same box that Carlyon told his grandsons to avoid, and Jack ran his fingers lightly, reverently, across it. Ah. So he did see it. Or rather, did see _her_. Carlyon wondered, and he wondered if he realized what it meant. Jack looked up, whispering, "You brought her. So, she's. . ."

"I couldn't bear to bring her out of it before it was over. And then, when it was over, I couldn't bring myself to wake her. I knew she would be worried sick about you, so the awakening was pushed back until we saw you again. It'll have to wait until we get home to Oklahoma, and then hopefully we'll be able to wake her in a few weeks," Carlyon replied. That also meant there were other secrets that would need to be told, and God forgive him, but he wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that.

Matheson jumped into the back of the van, moving too quickly for Lucas or Jason to stop him, and looked at the box that Jack was touching so reverently. Even from this distance, Carlyon could see the shock on his face as he stumbled away and blurted out, "What the hell are you doin,' totin' a dead woman around the country?" This time, it was only Priscilla and Octavia who snarled at him. . .but then, they would. Jason and Lucas just looked at each other, shook their head, and began carrying the crates to the disposable van. A very tired looking Esther Drummond sat down on top of the car, while Natalie joined her, still holding Ailsa.

"That 'dead' woman is our mother, Agent Matheson, so I suggest you show a little respect! And she's not dead, she was cryogenically frozen to save her life and the life of our younger sister. Dad wasn't about to leave her in Oklahoma, not with civilization itself still dancing along the edge of disintegration," Priscilla fired back. She bit her lip, as if she was struggling against saying something devastating. Carlyon put his hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. Because naturally, where Sophia was concerned, Priscilla was still that fourteen year old girl who turned on the object of her affections because she saw him as standing in the way of her mother's recovery. Something for which Priscilla still hadn't entirely forgiven herself for.

"I don't mean any disrespect to you or your mother. . .but that's not possible. You can't cryogenically freeze a living person, much less a living person and a fetus," Matheson argued as he jumped down from the van. Jack just shook his head, looking exasperated, and followed suit. However, once he was down, he picked up the remaining crate and carried it over to Jason and Lucas. Octavia offered Jack a half smile, before returning her stare to Matheson. Ahh, so Priscilla was going to let her younger sister take care of this one. He wondered how they would work that out. It wouldn't surprise him if they were still working on it. A moment later, he realized it was a double-barreled effort.

"We're Torchwood, Mr. Matheson. . .'impossible' really doesn't apply to us. Now, if you'd like to stand around and argue about what is and isn't possible, be our guest. But we are not sticking around for the Families to catch up with us, and catch up with us they will!" Priscilla snapped. She turned to Carlyon, asking, "What do you need me to do?" Carlyon simply pointed to the car, leading to Ailsa, Natalie and Esther vacating its front bumper. Priscilla nodded, observing, "Load up the car and the truck, got it. Esther, honey, which vehicle would you prefer to ride in? Agent Matheson will probably be in the car again, and I'm willing to bet that Captain Harkness will be riding with my father. They have a lot to talk about."

"It really doesn't matter to me, Miss Tregarth. I feel like sleeping the rest of the way to Oklahoma anyhow. Is there a place in the pickup truck where I can sleep?" the girl asked almost apologetically as she and Natalie joined him. Carlyon wasn't sure if the apology was intended for Priscilla or for Jack, especially after Esther glanced toward his old friend. But Jack's smile was gentle, reassuring the girl, and she relaxed. That answered that. Esther didn't want to be seen as choosing one over the other.

He leaned over and whispered, "Well played, my dear." She looked up at him with a shy smile, and he added, "And before you fall asleep, you can explain to my grandsons what Torchwood is. Because they're Torchwood, and so are you. Are you not." It was a statement, not a question, and Esther Drummond more than fulfilled his faith in her when she bobbed her head, her dark eyes filled with determination. _Oh yes_. Yes, she was. Carlyon beamed at her, adding, "And maybe you can get them to explain why they put that poor boy in the very back, rather than in the passenger cab!" That made her laugh, but Carlyon was truly curious. He hoped she would find out.

TWTWTWTWTWTW

Within fifteen minutes, Carlyon set up whatever unpleasant surprises he had for whichever Families representatives might have tracked them down. Jack's heart bled for them. Really. It did. All right, no, it didn't. Jack bled quite enough for the Families, thank you very much. . .the first time was unwillingly, the second time was to stop the Miracle, and twice was more than enough. So he didn't protest whatever Carlyon and his grandsons were doing in the van Jack vacated when they arrived here. Not that it would have mattered, even if he did protest.

Rex made a token attempt at doing just that, but it fell flat when Carlyon pointed out that these were the same individuals who burned Dr. Vera Juarez alive. Ouch. Which was technically not true, but at the same time, it was. And Rex made no more protests after that, though the Tregarth ladies all looked uncomfortable at the introduction of Vera's death into the conversation. Jack didn't blame them. He needed some time to come to terms with Vera's death, and his sense that he could have saved her if he accompanied them to the camps. Esther insisted that it wouldn't have made a difference, and she was likely right, but the guilt lingered. He imagined it was even worse for Rex, who was right there at the camp and watched her die.

He and Octavia Tregarth were the first to leave, although Octavia was still glaring daggers at Rex for the perceived insult to her parents. That would likely be a fun trip. Jack didn't envy Rex, being in the same car as an angry Octavia Tregarth, not at all. It was agreed that Natalie and her little girl would join Esther, Lucas and Jason in the pickup truck (Jack firmly told his imagination not to bother thinking about those four adults in bed, thank you very much, much less in bed with him). They were the next to leave, Ailsa nearly asleep in her mother's arms, and Natalie listing against the elder of her cousins as he helped her into the passenger cab of the truck. That left Jack, Carlyon and Priscilla. . .and Priscilla, he learned, would be riding in the back of the moving van to monitor her mother's unit.

Sophia. Sophia Imogen Wellington Tregarth was the oldest daughter of an American diplomat and his Swiss wife, and the beloved wife of Carlyon Tregarth. She was beautiful, terrifyingly intelligent, and with a wealth of compassion. Jack remembered nights when Sophia held him after horrifying nightmares, usually triggered by especially brutal missions. Carlyon wasn't always in charge of Torchwood Three, and by the time he was, Jack was hardened by what he saw, what he experienced, by what he found himself doing to protect Earth and humanity. That triggered another nightmare, as Jack feared he was losing his own humanity. It was a few months before the initial 456 encounter and Sophia was then four months pregnant with her third child. Another girl, she told him, beaming happily. That was fine. She had four older brothers as well as her three younger sisters. It all worked out.

She told him that night his nightmares proved that he wasn't losing his humanity. She seemed so sure of it. And then, just a short time later, everything fell apart. Beautiful, flame-haired Sophia was stricken with an illness and in desperation to save her and their unborn daughter, her husband recommended to the Crown a course of action that couldn't end well. . .a course of action with which all the other Torchwood directors concurred. But it was all for naught. Sophia continued to deteriorate, further endangering herself and their baby. The doctors within the Institute gave Carlyon two choices: take the baby early and risk her life or cryogenically freeze mother and unborn child, with the intention of waking them both up when Sophia was, at the very least, strong enough to give birth to the child. Carlyon couldn't choose between his wife and his daughter, and so, he chose the second option, hoping he could save them both.

In 1966, Carlyon packed up his wife's frozen body, his two young daughters, and left England forever for the United States. He had no intention of returning to his ancestral home. And Jack? Jack remained in Cardiff, understanding that sometimes, you couldn't stay. Not if you wanted to keep your own sanity. It happened to him in the past, more than once. He understood. Of course he did. And he knew that Sophia would have understood as well. She was one of the few people who knew about that horrifying night in 1928 New York City, the night that eventually led to the Miracle.

And now? Now, Sophia's body lay in a cryo unit behind Jack in the moving van. Somewhere nearby, her oldest daughter was watching over her. And Sophia's husband was heaving himself into the cab of the moving van after putting the finishing touches on the surprise party for the Families. Carlyon sighed quietly, resting his head against his wrists for a moment, and then he said, "We should get on the road. I hope to be in Lawton by dinner time. Even if no one has the energy to fix dinner. I don't anticipate that being a problem. After things began to stabilize once more, people began bringing food to us, rather than the other way around. Although, I believe some of that has to do with the shots fired into Ailsa's bedroom one night when things got particularly tense. They saw Natalie's temper, and believe me, it wasn't pretty."

Perfect opening, especially since that the immortal noticed something interesting while they were traveling from New Mexico, and just needed the proper opening to ask his question. Jack noted as Carlyon started the engine, "I would imagine she inherited that from her mother." Carlyon's hands froze on the steering wheel, and Jack went on, "I have known you for far too long, Carl. And I realized after spending about an hour with the girl that Natalie Sophia Tregarth isn't your granddaughter at all, but your daughter. She is, in fact, tour youngest daughter, the child whom Sophia was carrying when things fell apart. It ended up taking ten years before Sophia was strong enough to give birth?"

"It would have taken longer," the other man admitted numbly, "if not for Angelo Colasanto. Not just his business and technology, but his money as well. Nat often says that we were frenemies and she could never quite be sure where the two of us stood together. However much we argued about the best way to deal with the Families, though, I've never forgotten that my beautiful Natalie is alive because of Angelo. He's the only reason she's alive, and that's the only reason I didn't kill that granddaughter of his years ago. Believe me, I wish now I had."

"Natalie's worth more to you than that, Carlyon, and don't try to tell me otherwise. So, Sophia improved enough to give birth to Natalie, somewhere around thirty-five years ago, was conscious for the birth and hopefully long enough to hold her, and then it was back into the freezer for her. How long has it been since she was strong enough to be revived?" Jack asked next, avoiding the entire topic of Olivia Colasanto, about whom he still had very mixed feelings, even five months later. Carlyon leveled a very dark glare at him, and Jack realized what he said. Damn. He was actually doing better with that whole bit about not thinking before he spoke. Mostly.

"Don't apologize, Jack, because that's exactly what happened. You need to know. Angelo was never interested in immortality for the sake of immortality. He wanted to live long enough to see you again, and know that you forgave him," Carlyon said, waving off any apology Jack might have made. He was silent for a moment, before calling over his shoulder, "Priscilla, send the signal now, if you please." There was a faint affirmation from the back, and Carlyon explained quietly, "It's how I'm sure that only the Families will be harmed when my surprises go off. And as I was saying, Angelo wanted to live long enough to see you again and know that he was forgiven. It seems that my say-so wasn't enough for him. I don't blame him."

"That's why he died when I kissed him," Jack murmured, mentally replaying those last few minutes before Angelo died, "it wasn't just the null field chip that I confiscated from the compound. He was holding on until I got there. When I kissed him, he knew that he was forgiven. There was still some brain function, some part of Angelo still trapped within his failing body." Carlyon nodded solemnly and Jack sighed, "I forgave him not long after. I just couldn't trust him anymore. And. . . I really didn't understand him, any more than he could understand me."

"Neither of you had a point of reference for the other, however much you might have loved each other," Carlyon observed and Jack bobbed his head in agreement. His old friend continued softly, "That brings me to the present. How long did it take you to forgive me, Jack, and would you be interested in giving me a chance to win back to your trust?" Jack inhaled sharply; he was _not _expecting that. Carlyon went on, sounding very old and very tired, "I'm eighty-nine years old, Jack. I have maybe five years left in me, if I play my cards right, and you know I was always a terrible card player. At the very least, I want things right between us, and at most. . ."

His voice trailed off, and while Jack knew he was being played like a violin, he had to ask, "At most, what, Carl? At the very least, you want to know that things are okay between us and at most, you want what?" The truth was, like Angelo before him, Jack forgave Carlyon years earlier. It was forgiving himself that proved to be hardest, for everything that he did, everything that he failed to do, all the people whom he hurt, all the people whom he failed to save. And as for trust, well, he already trusted him to help them rescue Esther, something that Carlyon delivered with spades. Jack was pretty sure that trust was already being rebuilt between them. Especially since Carlyon hinted that he wanted Jack there when they woke Sophia from her frozen coma.

"I want to work with you again. Re-establish Torchwood, the two of us, just like it used to be. All right, as much as it can be like the old days, given my age. You would be in charge of the field, while I acted as the figurehead, dealing with UNIT and heads of state and other agencies. . .all the things you hate to do. Agent Matheson and Miss Drummond would be welcome to join us, once they earned my trust. I do trust you, Jack, but my daughters and grandchildren are part of the picture, and I need to be sure that I can trust them both with the safety of those I love," Carlyon replied. Jack just smiled faintly.

"I'd have to check you for alien possession if you didn't take those steps, Carl. And I'm not sure how I feel about your proposal. Give me a few days to think it over and time to rest, and I'll get back to you. In the meantime, you can tell me how Priscilla came to raise her younger sister as her daughter. I'm guessing you chose the 'hide in plain sight' option, rather than giving her to someone else, due to the safety factor?" Jack questioned. Carlyon immediately shook his head.

"No, old friend. . .it was pure selfishness on my part. I couldn't bear to lose my baby, my last tie to Sophia, so long as she remained in the coma. Priscilla offered to raise Natalie, and I simply couldn't say no," he replied. Quick math told Jack that Priscilla was barely out of college when Natalie was born, assuming she did go to college. She was a very young woman, just starting her life. Carlyon added heavily, providing the missing key in a very soft voice, "A few months before Natalie was born, Priscilla and her fiancé were involved in a terrible accident. It killed her fiancé and Priscilla miscarried her own child." Oh God. Jack closed his eyes, and Carlyon murmured, "I think taking care of Natalie helped to ease some of Priscilla's grief."

"Besides, it prevented my baby sister from being lost to the family. Don't look at me like that, Dad, I know you and I knew you would need to explain about Natalie, especially when I noticed the way Jack was listening to her and watching her. I figured Jack worked out that Natalie is my sister, rather than my daughter. And since we'll be waking Mom up soon, it's time we told Natalie the truth. Actually, it's long past time that we told her the truth, but she has to know before Mom wakes up and the first thing she asks is, '_is Natalie all right_?' And you know damn good and well, Dad, that will be the very thing she asks," Priscilla pointed out. Yeah, that was Jack's take on it as well.

However, Carlyon didn't argue with them. He sighed, "I know. I know. I've thought of nothing else for the last two months." Priscilla and Jack exchanged a glance, and Carlyon added testily, "When I wasn't creating viruses to annoy the Families, and other painful surprises for them, is that better, Priscilla Jeanne?" She nodded with a bright smile, leaning her head against Jack's forearm. Without really thinking about it, Jack reached over with his free hand to cup her cheek. Carlyon glanced over and smiled, saying, "I didn't think I would ever see that again." Jack blinked and realized what he had done. He grinned at both Priscilla and Carlyon, wrapping his arm around Priscilla properly, just as he always did when Priscilla was a young girl. She slid her own arms around his waist, content to lean against him.

"I didn't think I'd ever get to do this again. I'm so glad you've come back to us, Jack, no matter how long it lasts," Priscilla murmured. Jack kissed the top of her head, smiling as she cuddled closer, and then laughed as Priscilla added, "Mmm, you feel just the same as you did when I was a kid. Mom was right, you do smell good. Really good." He looked down at the top of her head with amusement, and Carlyon simply gave a long-suffering sigh. Jack responded with his cheekiest grin, one that. . .oh yes, he still had it. Carlyon's breathing hitched and Priscilla giggled, "Jaaaaaaack, you're _terrible_."

"And impossible, and. . ." Jack began, breaking off when Priscilla's fingers danced mischievously over his sides. Oh, he forgot about that particular habit of hers, and it seemed that time hadn't changed that aspect of her personality. He wondered if the time was right to tell them what he learned from the Doctor four years earlier. For that matter, he wasn't even sure if he was ready to talk about that time, even with old friends like the Tregarth family. He wasn't sure if they were ready to hear about the Year (always and forever capitalized in the minds of those who lived through it).

"You are the most impossible man I've ever met, Jack Harkness, and that's simply a fact. But the truth is, my daughters and I wouldn't want you any other way," Carlyon responded. Jack could have laughed. . .he _was_ a Fact. However, he didn't say anything. He didn't have the chance to say anything. . .they were at a stop light, and Carlyon twisted in his seat, reaching across the console to cup Jack's face. He ran his thumb over Jack's lower lip, causing Jack's breath to catch, and then feathered his thumb over Jack's right cheekbone. Carlyon smiled softly and murmured, "Still the same Jack. Still beautiful, still cheeky, still stubborn, still impossible, still loving."

"You wouldn't know what to do if I changed. And light's green, so you might wanna get going. As lovely as the idea of a threesome with you and Priscilla is, I really don't think this is the place for it, especially not with Sophia in the back seat. . .OW! Dammit, Priscilla, that's the second time you've hit me!" Jack retorted, glowering at the woman who just swatted his hip. True, it didn't hurt as much as the punch to the ribs earlier, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Hey, I've got forty-plus years of swats saved up for you, darlin,' and believe me, we both will be collecting," Priscilla retorted, snickering. _Oh really_? Jack smirked down at her. . .and she realized the danger she was in entirely too late. Her eyes widened and she started to pull away, only to find one of Jack's arms clamped tightly around her upper body. Priscilla squeaked, "Oh, no. No, no, no, don't you _dare_, Jack Harkness! Jack! Dad, stop him!" She squeaked again, dissolving into giggles as Jack began to ruthlessly tickle her and squirming.

"I'm driving, my dear, and you're always telling me to focus on my driving. And didn't I always tell you to be careful about Jack's retaliation?" Carlyon asked dryly. He paused, waited until Priscilla's giggling stopped, and then said, "Besides, you should be grateful that he's tickling you instead of spanking you." Jack quirked an eyebrow and Carlyon added sternly, "That is NOT a suggestion, Jack, especially since we're in the car right now! And despite the fact that Jack is approaching two hundred, people would assume that you're a lynx."

"Cougar, Dad," Priscilla corrected breathlessly once Jack's fingers stilled. She leaned heavily against him, repeating, "It's 'cougar.' And yes, Jack, we do know about the two thousand years you were buried alive. Technically speaking, yes, you're over twenty-one hundred years old, but since when has this family cared anything about technicalities? Those two thousand years you spent buried alive by that little bastard don't count against you, because you weren't living and laughing and loving and learning."

"That little bastard, as you call him, was my little brother, Priscilla. He was my responsibility, and because I couldn't keep hold of his hand when the invaders came, Tosh and Owen died," Jack observed quietly. Priscilla's eyes hardened, but Jack insisted, "Would you let anyone talk that way about Octavia or about Natalie? Gray was my responsibility, it was my responsibility to take care of him, to get him to safety, and I failed him. He spent countless months and years being tortured because of my failure. And that's something I have to live with for the rest of my life."

"If either of them ever hurt other people to get back at me, in that situation, you're damn right I'd let people talk about them that way! And if you want to talk about people falling down on the job, let's talk about your father, who put a thirteen year old boy in charge of his eight year old brother, with mass pandemonium going on. There's no reason in the world why he couldn't have put Gray on his hip, carrying him, while the three of you looked for your mother. He failed you and Gray. You didn't. But you've thought that way for two hundred years, and I can't change your mind," Priscilla said, shaking her head. Jack started to protest, but was cut off. . .this time by Carlyon.

"She's right, Jack. I've wanted to tell you the exact same thing for so many years. It's a fine thing, taking responsibility. . .but you take responsibility for your own actions and your own misdeeds, not someone else's wrongdoings. You three should have stayed together. Oh, I can see why your father did it. He wanted you boys safe. But you were both far safer with him, just as he was safer with you. And I truly believe that if he was here today and heard you blaming yourself for his mistake, he would tan your bum, no matter how old you are. It's been two hundred years, Jack. Did you drop his hand? Or did he drop yours? Did his sweat-slicked palm slip from your hand, did he trip over a rock, did he see something that caught his attention? You were just a child, Jack, a boy of thirteen. How can you be so sure that you were the one who failed?" Carlyon asked.

Jack couldn't answer. He believed this for so many years that this was a fact. Priscilla changed tactics, asking gently, "Put yourself in your father's position. Your home has been invaded. You can't find your wife. Do you place your eight year old son in the care of his older brother, who is very young himself, while you search for your wife or do you stay together? Jack, it was chaotic. . .how did he know he would find you again after it was all over? I'm sure not everyone on the Boeshane Peninsula were good people, two frightened young boys would have been easy targets for unscrupulous individuals. Oh, you never thought of that, did you? What would you have chosen to do?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out her words. Carlyon said with equal gentleness, "Hindsight is twenty/twenty, Jack. You know this. But there was plenty of blame to go around that day. You shouldn't take all of it on your shoulders. That little boy who had his family ripped away on that day isn't strong enough to carry that burden. Let him process this, Priscilla. It isn't easy, having your view of the world and yourself ripped away. Look after your mother. . .it's going to be a long drive. And Jack? As much time you need to decide, you have." Jack nodded numbly. He would need that time. This wasn't an easy decision to make. But which of them really were?

TWTWTWTWTW

Some two hours after the three vehicles left that abandoned filling stations on the outskirts of the still-reeling Amarillo, Texas, a van exploded, killing ten Cousins. The Cousins in question followed the signal left by discarded, disposable cell phones to the van. It was not a good day for the Families, losing so many Cousins at once. It was even worse when you added the three women who died, failing to recapture Jack Harkness. And since he was reunited with his friend Carlyon Tregarth, the picture got even worse. The Families were wary of Torchwood. With just four people, Jack Harkness ended the Blessing. He would be even more dangerous in a partnership with Carlyon Tregarth.

After their primary mole within the CIA killed himself, one of his agents, and Olivia Colasanto, once the CIA left the compound, the Families intended to raid the manor. Whatever information Angelo Colasanto managed to retrieve, they wanted. It couldn't do the CIA any good, but it belonged to the Families. The thief stole it, and they wanted it back. In addition, they wanted whatever technology Colasanto had taken from the Torchwood Three Hub after Jack Harkness was blown up, and any research he accumulated in his search for immortality.

However, when they reached the complex, they discovered that it was already stripped clean of the Families' secrets, of the technologies stolen from Torchwood, to say nothing of all research. It took very little time to discover that Carlyon Tregarth's two daughters were the culprits. . .all of thirty seconds, since Octavia Tregarth made it a point to stick her tongue out and wave at one of the cameras. No doubt that was one reason why her thirty-four year old niece was the one sent by Carlyon himself to watch over Esther Drummond. And now, she was gone, as was Harkness. The new head of the Families was not pleased. No, not pleased at all.

And so, four hours after the explosion at that filling station, the head of the Families made a single fateful call to the Families representative in Britain, saying four simple words, "You have a go." Torchwood might be rising again. . .but so were the Families.

The Beginning


End file.
